


Never to Rule Over Him

by Of_Quirky_Excellence



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Tevinter Imperium, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Kirkwall plus Jowan, M/M, Multi, Pre-Dragon Age II, Rare Pair, Rare Pairings, Slavery, Very AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Quirky_Excellence/pseuds/Of_Quirky_Excellence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wish I could say this was from a random prompt generator, but I actually came up with it myself. I am hopeless. Jowan never asked to be born a mage, Fenris never asked to be born a slave. When fate intertwines their lives, what will become of everyone's favorite Broody Elf and Blood Mage. Such a crack!Pairing. Rated for slavery and violence/torture. I may continue this story through the end of DA2 but please be prepared for some time skips! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enslaved

**Author's Note:**

> A waaaay out there Jowan/Fenris AU that has been milling around in my head for days ever since I started a roleplay thread with some friends involving this setting. The roleplay will likely turn out differently than this story, and that's ok. As for the actual characters, I don't know if they will be romantically involved as of now, but I not rule it out as a possibility for later in the plot of this story. Extra note…VERY IMPORTANT! Maeve Amell does not exist in this AU, but she remains in my canon playthrough story, Half Full. So if you like Jowan/Amell, please read that!

_Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him._

Jowan imagined having to write that down on a sheet of parchment fifty or sixty times before the Senior Enchanter who taught his class was satisfied the rowdy boys in the back row- Anders being the ringleader, of course, had learned their lesson, that burning holes in each other's trousers was not acceptable behavior. Jowan had surprised the entire class had not been required to write "Thou shalt not laugh, thou shalt not be merry," instead.

If only he had something to be merry about now. If only his worst concern was to be reprimanded for poor handwriting or a badly aimed fire spell. Alas, his lack of proficiency with flames was the least of his concern.

 _How many times must I muck up? How long before my punishment comes?_ He shook his head and watched the ship filled with hopeful refugees sailing from Gwaren's harbor, bound towards Kirkwall, a city whose gates he vowed never to pass through. Then he remembered. _My punishment is that I continue in this miserable existence. My punishment is that Amell let me live. My punishment is that I was denied death by a merciful hand._

A woman was watching, little did he know. Jowan finally turned away from the sea and sighed. His guard was down at long last, having travelled with the refugees and escorted them safely into the town of Gwaren, where there weren't many doomsayers or even signs that Ferelden was under siege from a Blight. It was so peaceful, and Jowan took a quiet walk down a path he thought was safe. His free days were numbered, however.

The woman signaled to two guards and they followed suit, as silently as they could while dressed in their Tevinter armor. They followed their mistress like one large shadow, and four more guards in identical armor joined them from the shadows.

Jowan took his time collecting flowers and what most would assume were weeds. They were valuable herbs and the former blood mage planned to sell some and keep the rest, eager to use the coin to flee Ferelden, and start a new life. Learn to heal people, never hurt another soul again. Maker knows even this small mercy was too much for Jowan to ask. As he knelt down to harvest some elfroot, Jowan felt the trapped sensation of a Templar's presence, or something like it as he was frozen into place. No, not a Templar, Templars would just smite him and that would be louder and more painful. Another mage was casting a spell he had seen only once in use. Karl had cast such a spell on Anders when he'd broken his arm and it only held the arm in place while it was being healed so the mischievous apprentice would quit squirming for a few moments.

This was different. Jowan's whole body trembled, but he could not move a muscle as he spotted her out of the corner of his eyes. She wore thick robes made in Tevinter with feathery shoulders and a low-cut collar, exposing much of her cleavage. Her hair was thick and raven black, like his, and her eyes an icy blue. They lacked empathy or kindness, tenderness or mercy. But her expression was unreadable, which caused Jowan to fear her even more as she modified the spell, forcing him to the ground like a wounded dog.

He found he could not speak although he was fully aware of everything and everyone around him. She stepped closer now, with a wicked smirk on her face, and one of the guards spoke in a gruff voice. "That was too easy, Mistress. Want us to break him a little so he doesn't struggle?"

"No." She replied coldly. She glanced down, grabbing his wrist, holding his hand up and drawing a dagger. Jowan's heart pounded in his chest and he wanted to cry out, even to warn her of what he was, but nothing would come save for a whimper when he felt her nails digging into his pale and thin flesh.  
Then without another word she pricked the back of his thumb with the little knife. Jowan hissed and could feel tears running down his cheeks at a fast pace, from both terror and pain. She let it bleed for a moment and then she met his horrified, wide-eyed gaze. Blood began to rise, and he panicked as he realized she was doing to him what he vowed he would never do to himself again.

Then he felt the power of his mana pulsing through his veins quickly. The aura of blood magic surrounded his offended hand. "Not just a simple herbalist…a blood mage!" the dark haired woman marveled for a moment.

He fought with all his strength of will until he could move the muscles on his face and he spoke quickly, for fear that he never would get that chance again.

"I am already broken. Leave me be!"

He found the strength to pull his hand away and his captor chuckled. "So broken, yet so willfull, yes? My, my will you be a fun experiment for the Master. Guards, bind him and use whatever means necessary to get him to the ship without raising suspicion from the public. Have fun, but if he dies, the one who kills him takes his place in chains."

And with that she stood up walked back towards the harbor, leaving Jowan with six Tevinter soldiers surrounding his trembling, but now mobile form. Having no desire to be trapped or harmed again, Jowan evaded the first two who came towards him with chains ready to shackle his hands, but the four other men drew weapons, so Jowan prepared a fire spell. Releasing it, the flame landed in front of one of the two guards tasked with subduing the frightened mage, and the poor bastard couldn't stop moving fast enough to avoid being burned alive. The other man who held the chains was shaken by his comrade's cries and curses, but he lunged out and tried to grab Jowan regardless.

Remembering the dagger he had used to help fend off darkspawn when he could not risk using his magic, he reached for his belt and unsheathed it quickly. "Let's not get hasty, mage. Someone could get hur-"

The man gurgled on his own blood as Jowan impaled his stomach with the superficial weapon. There was so much blood….Jowan _could_ have used its power to obliterate the entire squadron of Tevinter soldiers, but images of Lily's devastated, betrayed expression flashed before his eyes and he refused the demon's offer.

There was so much blood. What happened next went by in a blurry flash, as Jowan froze up. He had just killed two men. He was afraid for his life and terrified for his future, desperate to preserve his freedom. But not desperate enough to remember that there were four other guards waiting to assist in his capture.

He was luckily unconscious for most of it, but he received a terrible beating and in the end, he was weak, bleeding and only half-conscious as he was dragged towards the ship, hands and feet clapped in irons and covered in dirt, sweat and blood from the brutality of it all.

He never asked to be born a mage, never wanted to become a blood mage. But his destiny would soon be intertwined with that of another, a man so different, and yet so alike, in so many ways.

Fenris never asked to be an elf. Never longed to be a slave. Perhaps he'd wanted to have these markings, maybe he'd even begged for this position despite the memory wipe. Was it merely a side effect, or a bonus for his master? Not even time could tell.

There was a new shipment of slaves to be brought in today, and the elf knew his duty. To accompany Master Danarius into the dungeon to see to it none of the new meat acted up or harmed their captors.

Fenris walked slightly behind his master at a brisk pace, but carefully not to trip or get ahead of the human. If he did he would most certainly be punished. As they walked down the stairs towards the cells Fenris remained stoic, his body language unreadable, expression blank. That was just the way. It was cruel to be soft towards the new slaves. It would only give them the wrong impression of what being here was like. He rarely would see those whose arrival he helped oversee again, either because they died or were sold, but one thing always remained the same, his face did not give away emotion, even if what was going on made him want to feel something. It was just easier if nothing was there to feel.

"Ah, what have we here?" The magister's voice sounded almost warm and inviting. Fenris hated this part. If any of the slaves spoke now they would likely be flogged, or worse.

A young male human sat off to the side of the cell, his body beaten, but nothing so broken that Danarius would ever consider healing. Covered in dried blood and filth the man turned his head slightly. An elven girl lay curled up next to the young man, leaning her head on his leg. Her eyes were clenched shut, but Fenris suspected the young thing was not truly asleep.

The others in the cell were broken elves, mostly. Probably the only thing in store for them would be blood rituals and painful experiments and when master got his money's worth, a death more merciful than starvation on the streets. Fenris remembered being told that was what elves who were not slaves had to look forward to, nothing more. Never anything more than poverty and death on the streets. _'Be grateful my little wolf, you could have been nothing like them. But now you are a prize. A weapon crafted to kill and carried proudly.'_ Fenris could recall his master saying it now, before he'd been slapped across the face for forgetting himself in his surprise and looking his master in the eyes.

The young human looked wary at the newcomers. He scooted back to a far corner of the cell and the elf at his side started at the sudden movement, sat up and went with him, clinging to his arm. Tears trickled down the young elven girl's cheeks and the human male stroked her hair weakly, trying to be of comfort and failing miserably. _At least,_ Fenris noted silently, _He is not foolish enough to speak before he is spoken to._

Danarius looked over his shoulder slightly and nodded to Fenris subtly. "Bring out the one who just cowered to the back, he's the only one who looks like he might be valuable."

Fenris muttered, "Yes, master," before he stepped forward and unlocked the door to the cell.

Jowan trembled and moved to hold the slender form of the elven girl he had befriended on the ship. She was mute, as far as he could tell, and absolutely terrified of just about everyone. The girl gasped as the cell door opened. She sobbed a little onto his shoulder and clung tighter to his arm.

Fenris quickly closed the gap between himself and the two prisoners in the back of the cell and extended his hand towards the male human. Normally were it an elven slave he would have just grabbed him, but humans were superior, he was taught, and as a result his fellow slaves with flat ears got a little bit more respect, only because they were a little closer to his master than he could ever be.

This was why Danarius rarely took human slaves and he favored the elves. He could treat them with equal cruelty. Jowan looked perplexed at the elf's offer and hesitated. The girl let go of him and scrambled away from the elf with the strange markings and snow-white hair.

Jowan stole a glance after his quiet little friend and then his gaze returned to the intimidating elf before him. The elf brought his hand closer and emphasized for Jowan to hurry with a lift of his dark eyebrows. Without any more hesitation or contemplation Jowan took the male elf's hand and let himself be helped to his feet. When their hands touched, Jowan could feel it, just for a moment. The song of Lyrium. He shuddered as he automatically thought of Templars and their cruelty but then he snapped out of it once he was on his feet and he let go of the elf's hand. "Thank you…" he managed. The elf replied to his futile attempt to be pleasant with a curt nod.

He was guided by the arm out of the cell and brought before the magister. "I have heard quite a good deal about you, blood mage. Rumor has it you escaped your Circle and poisoned the Arl of some good-for-nothing Fereldan town, hmm?"

Jowan looked up at Danarius, terror and anxiety written all over his face. The white haired elf quickly bumped the top of his head with a gauntleted hand to lower Jowan' gaze. Jowan, instead of looking down like the elf had assumed he would, looked at Fenris, who refused to meet his pained gaze.

"Now, now, Fenris," Danarius said softly. "He will learn his place in good time. Provided we explain to him what is to be expected of him. And you, young man, have a lot to learn from my Fenris, now, haven't you? Looking your master in the eyes is a sure way to earn a flogging."

Jowan quickly began counting the stone that made up the dungeon's floor in order to contain his emotions.

"Much better." Danarius said, his voice prickly even though the words were supposed to be praise.

The magister reached towards Jowan's face and cupped his fingers under the young man' chin, causing him to flinch slightly and raise his head. "What is your name, slave?"

Jowan's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. No point in lying, no meaning in telling the truth. If he lied, one more sin the Maker could punish him for, and if he told the truth, he was still nothing. Nothing at all to these all-powerful magisters.

"You would be wise to answer when spoken to, human." Fenris growled menacingly, squeezing Jowan's arm. Again, were it an elf, he would have allowed the man to gape until words were forced to come, but it was curtesy to the human to give him warning that he was at risk of being punished.

"…Jowan." He said meekly. "My name is Jowan."

Danarius chuckled at the young mage's timidness. "Another lesson learned. You will answer when spoken to, my boy."

Jowan nodded very slightly.

"How much magic do you know, and don't lie to me, I know you use the arts your Circles forbid. My apprentice, Hadriana, informed me you put up quite a fight upon your capture as well. Know that there will be none of that here. You will learn to bend to my will and use spells only at my command, and if you misbehave, you shall be punished. If I deem it necessary, you little elven friend back there will be punished instead. You are far too valuable to be killed for petty errors, but she is not, so keep that in mind, mageling. My name is Danarius, but I am your master and you are to address me as such. Are we clear?"

Jowan let tears fall for the mute elf' sake as her life had just been threatened, and he nodded. "Yes, master." He found himself uttering the words softly. The older mage stomped on his bare foot.

" _Louder, my boy, so even the deaf and dumb elves back there can hear you!"_ Danarius roared, startling Fenris and causing the elf's grip on him to falter slightly, just for a moment.

Jowan lifted his foot after the magister stepped off and squinted, gritting his teeth. "Yes _master!"_ He cried.


	2. New Friends in Dark Places

Danarius nodded, taking a step back from Jowan and releasing his grip on his face. "Fenris, get the little elf. The one that was with this boy. She is worth close to nothing to us, but she may be a good leash for the mageling."

Fenris did not question the order, and he returned to the cell. Jowan stood in shock. He found his grey eyes following the marked elf and watching his every move as he entered the prison and toward the little elven girl, who really was not much younger than Jowan or Fenris, just extremely malnourished and traumatized. She trembled as the much fiercer looking elf extended his arm and grabbed hers, a great deal less gently than he had taken Jowan's, and he pulled her up.

Fenris led her from the cell quickly, practically dragging the poor girl, not because she struggled, but because she was far too weak and terrified to keep up with his long stride.

Jowan watched as she was led closer until Fenris released her with a rough shove towards the young mage and the harsh magister. Jowan frowned and winced as the little elf clung to his side, unintentionally brushing against one of his many bruises.

She buried her fragile face in what was left of his shirt and Jowan shushed her gently as she sobbed and sniffled. He held her in a close, protective embrace.

"Ah, the child seems like a weakling…drawn to a Ferelden mage for protection, well, isn't that typical?" The two guards who were stationed outside the cell laughed cruelly, quickly silencing again when their master glared at them.

Jowan did not look up at Danarius, he gently stroked the girl's light brown strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. The young elf looked at Danarius, but was careful not to make eye contact.

Jowan released her from his arms, but one hand remained on her quivering shoulder.

Danarius spoke condescendingly to the child. "What is your name, little slave?"

_He had counted forty eight floorboards below deck when she'd been brought aboard. There had been no need to bind her in chains like they had with him, and they left the delicate little girl in the brig with him, and four others. She was terrified of anyone and everything, but not of him. The one prisoner whom they had left in chains._

_Of course that was only because she did not know why he was bound._

_She'd spent the first night alone in a corner. The next day the guards had brought stale bread. Jowan could not get close enough, because his shackles tethered him to the wall of the ship and try as he might he could not persuade the other frightened and starving slaves to pass him food._

_"Every man for himself," they'd said. She finally locked eyes with him when he'd given up struggling against his bonds. She had managed two small bits of the bread, and later when the other four settled down for the night, she crawled over to him._

_He'd been almost asleep, but she shook him, very lightly. Had he been any deeper in slumber he would not have felt it. But his eyes opened and she flinched. She moved back a little but he'd sat up quickly and then he spoke softly. "What is it, little one?" He asked. With a pained expression she'd taken his hand and placed one piece of bread into it. Then she had smiled._

_"You did not have to…" He had begun._

_She shook her head and placed her index finger to her lips. He nodded. He understood._

She gave her head a subtle shake, and placed her finger to her lips.

Jowan was fearful now. He knew Danarius would never understand. So he spoke in her stead. "I…I believe the girl is mute, ser."

Danarius shot Jowan a poisonous glare and Fenris snarled, " _Your master did not speak to you, you fool_."

 _"_ Is it true, Fenris? Is the girl defective? Open her mouth." Danarius demanded.

"Yes, master." Fenris said automatically as he reached for the girl's face. The child let out a fearful cry, a scream of misery and anguish. Jowan pulled her away from Fenris' grasp. He understood the elf was only following orders but it pained him still to see the man so blindly follow this man's cruel ways and carry out all his dirty work.

Fenris raised a questioning dark eyebrow, and the girl continued to sob into Jowan's arms.

Danarius looked unsettled. "Quite the voice and tongue she has for a mute, wouldn't you say, lad? Perhaps if she pays for your lying you will learn not to lie to me, blood mage?"

Jowan shook his head frantically. "It was a mistake, master, I thought she was-"

"Enough of this foolishness!" Danarius said, voice raised dangerously. "Fenris, take them both to the slaves' quarters. If the girl cannot speak in twenty minutes' time, kill her and report back to me that my cargo was defective. If she can speak then she will live and Jowan here will be in…quite a bit of trouble for lying to his master. No food and no water to either of them until this matter is resolved. Are we clear?"

"Yes, master." Fenris said softly. Danarius turned on his heel and muttered something about how disgusting elven women were before he disappeared up the stairwell and out of the dungeon.

Jowan glared at the male elf before the other spoke. "You'd best learn quickly, human. Whatever life you had before, it is gone now. You are a slave, and that is all you should ever hope to be again. Anything more is foolery and dangerous. Your past is irrelevant to your life here…" Fenris said as he chained Jowan' hands together.

Once the mage's hands were bound he looked the elf in the eye, but the eye contact was quickly broken by Fenris' evasion. "Is it bad that I am almost comforted by my past being gone?"

Fenris looked genuinely confused for a moment, but then he shook his head. "That is none of my concern, human. I have no past."  
Jowan gave a puzzled frown to the elf's statement but then Fenris turned and took the smaller female elf by one arm and pushed Jowan towards the stairs. "I will lead the way, don't try anything." Fenris commanded.

The walk upstairs to the more populated parts of Danarius' estate was exhausting considering both Jowan and the female elf were close to starving and very parched. The estate was quite well lit and very extravagantly decorated, with blood red tapestries and paintings on almost every inch of the stone walls. The slaves' quarters, once they reached them, were drab and run down in comparison. Nicer than the dungeons but a very great deal shabbier than the main house.

Fenris released the girl once they turned the corner into the slaves' quarters and he kept one hand on the chains that bound Jowan.

"Say something, if you want to live, child. This charade is foolish, and will only make everything worse for us all." Fenris told the girl, with the first hint of gentleness that he had shown since Jowan had first seen him.

The girl looked towards Jowan and tears trickled down her cheek. Wide hazel-green eyes bore into Jowan's grey pools and the mage wanted to melt. He knew what she was probably thinking. If she did not speak, she would be killed, if she did, Jowan would be punished and she would most likely have to watch.

"My dear, it's all right. Don't worry about me. I know you're scared but I would rather be punished than see him kill you." Jowan said, forcing a smile. "You can do it; I know you can."

Jowan and Fenris exchanged glances and the marked elf spoke again. "I do not have a choice. If the master comes back and she is alive, he will expect her to speak…"

Ignoring Fenris' reasoning, Jowan looked the girl in the eyes, his expression softening. "What is your name, dear? I promise I won't be angry. You don't have to be loud…just, say it. You are the only reason I have made it this far, you have to speak. I cannot bear to see you throw away your life to spare me whatever punishment he has in store."

The elf glanced from Fenris to Jowan and then she bowed her head, solemn eyes closed. "Friend. You are a friend." A small voice, just above a whisper. But it was a voice! Jowan smiled, more sincerely this time, and the girl disregarded the presence of Fenris and anyone else and threw her arms around Jowan's neck, getting him a little bit off balance due to his bound hands, but Fenris steadied him. The male elf nudged Jowan's arm.

"You'll need to get her to say more than that, human." He quickly averted his eyes to the ground. "If her speech is too limited the master will still see her as a defect, and I will be ordered to-"

"Please, don't hurt my friend." The little elf said, more boldly than before.

Jowan scowled at Fenris now. "Begging for you not to hurt me? I think she's proven she understands more than she lets on. Does that suffice?" he asked bitterly.

Fenris was about to reply, but a firm, cold hand grasped Jowan's shoulder and at the sound of the newcomer's voice all three slaves flinched a little, the young girl being the most frightened. "Ah, yes. A slave must understand, and speak only enough to prove they aren't daft."

Fenris' gaze darted down again and Jowan followed his lead. "Master," Fenris greeted. He sounded almost polite, almost pleasant, but the emotion was barely there.

"Did I hear that the little one has been coaxed to speak, mageling?" Danarius cooed with a mock gentleness that sent a shiver down Jowan's spine.

"…please, do not hurt him…" the girl whimpered. She had let go of Jowan when Danarius had entered the room and now she was standing across from him, wringing her tiny hands in the skirt of her shabby dress.

Danarius frowned. "I suppose that answers that question, then." The magister released his grip on Jowan and shoved him sideways. The young mage was so weak from exhaustion, hunger and dehydration that he let himself fall, landing hard on the stone floor, wind knocked out of him. He could do nothing but watch as Danarius advanced towards the girl. She was backing up, desperate to get away from the frightening man, but she could only go so far before she hit the wall, and she yelped when she did.

She covered her face with her hands and began to cry again, no doubt frightened Danarius would strike her. "Hands at your sides, slave, I want to see your face." The girl obeyed, slowly, but as soon as she put her hands down she stared up at the Magister with her big, pleading eyes, the ones that could make Jowan melt, but Danarius was only angered by this.

"You dumb little elven wench!" He spat in her face, then slapped her across the face with a hard, bony, but strong hand. "You are completely worthless! We're it not to keep the mageling in check you'd be nothing more than a blood slave! Your blood's worth more than your labor!" Then he hit her again, and again, until she was on the ground, across the room from Jowan, who was struggling to get up.

Fenris winced as his master struck the younger elf. He rarely endured abuse so blatant, but he knew that Danarius had a nasty temper and he often took it out on his slaves in a barbaric manner. But such was the life of a slave, and nothing could be done to change this, so the elf thought. He tried to block out the more fragile elf's cries, but he couldn't help but wonder why she had remained silent. Both she and Jowan had disobeyed several orders so far and they had been here less than a day. Not to mention they were trying to protect one another. Why, he wondered, would Jowan be willing to endure a punishment for the little elf? Having friends was nothing but trouble. And why would the girl be begging her master not to harm the mageling? Why go through so much heart ache for someone she had just met?

Fenris' pondering was cut short by Jowan. The mage had finally been able to stand, and he moved from his place next to Fenris, quickly advancing across the floor. Danarius was still striking the girl, and although his hands were bound, he acted boldly in his friend's defense. As he spotted the lightning spell Danarius was preparing, Jowan swiftly pushed the girl out of the way and let the spell hit him full force. Danarius did not stop the flow of mana once he realized what Jowan had done, and he did not redirect the spell over to the battered elf. Instead he strengthened the spell, sparks turned to lightning bolts as they flew and coursed through Jowan's body. The young mage was on the ground now, convulsing and screaming, and now the little girl was next to Fenris, sitting up but covering her eyes.

Jowan was sure he would have died then and there, but then the lightning stopped, and although he was stunned and in a great deal of pain, he was still mostly conscious and struggling to breathe and trying to move. Once some of his senses returned he wanted to soothe the agonizing pain of the back of his head, that he must have hit while he had spasmed on the floor because of the spell. But when he brought his chained hands up to rub his head, the movement was too much, and unconsciousness finally greeted him.

It was hours before the mage stirred, but only moments before things calmed down, seemingly. Danarius had left after releasing the spell, ordering Fenris to follow him and tend to his bath. Other slaves had gathered in the room as Danarius was leaving, although they were careful not to get in his way.

The elven girl stayed with Jowan. Once she was sure the attention of the others was no longer on them save for a few hushed whispers in the distance, she crawled to his side and lay next to him on the floor, burying her bruises and bloodied face in his long, unkempt raven hair.

Jowan began to stir when it was long past midnight and the girl was asleep at his side. Nobody had paid them much attention, and when Jowan finally awoke, a throbbing pain coursed through his head, down his spine and throughout his entire body. He groaned and turned his head slowly, crying out when a bruise on the back of his head hit the cold hard ground.

The little elf was awake in only moments when she felt his movement. She sat up and looked down at him, gazing into his blue-grey eyes, her own green pools filled with concern.

"Friend…I'm sorry they hurt you…it is my fault." She said softly.

Jowan blinked a few times, and then he spoke quietly. "No…." Tears were streaming down the girl's face and he tried to lift a hand to wipe them away, only his hands were still shackled, and he clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth in pain when he tried to move.

"No, no. There is no need to speak like that, I did what I had to do." Jowan whispered.

"But …why?" she asked, her innocent features full of confusion.

"It is a harsh world we live in. My innocence was taken from me long ago. Some might say I doomed myself, but as Fenris said, the past is in the past. You are pure of heart and I wish to protect you…to atone for the innocence I could not have and because it is simply the right thing to do." He whispered. It was the best explanation he could possibly give her with his splitting headache and the pain the rest of his body was in.

"Oi," a voice said. "You gonna get up off the floor, shem? We mopped tonight, you know."

Jowan gave the cook a tired look. The elf was young, only perhaps a little older than himself, and Jowan raised an eyebrow as the man strode over and knelt at his side.

"You're hurt, shem." The man said simply. His accent was neither Tevinter or Fereldan. He was from the Free Marches, perhaps.

"No, I like to lay passed out on the floor with my hands in chain for fun." Jowan said softly.

"What?" the girl piped in. Jowan spared her a small smile.

"Don't worry about it sweetie." He said softly.

"That attitude'll getcha killed, shem. My name's Rik. I'm the cook in 'ere on a good day." The man said, with a smirk almost too mischievous for a slave. He had dirty blond hair and friendly blue eyes, but he bore many scars on his face, marking him a slave, for sure. He contradicted himself with the attitude comment, but Jowan played along.

"And on a bad day?" asked the chained mage.

"I cook for the master!" The elf said after chuckling for a time.

Jowan wanted to laugh, but he smiled instead. Something about Rik put the young human at ease.  
"Jowan," he offered, his grin fading. "My name is Jowan."

"Typical human name I suppose." Rik replied. "And who might you be, lass? Tell me and I'll give you lot some bread and gruel. It's gone cold, but better than nothing, yeah?"

"…Sa'renan. I'm Sa'renan." She said softly. It was clear she hadn't spoken her own name in a long time because she smiled gently when she said it and closed her eyes, savoring what it sounded like.

"A Dalish name?" Jowan asked. He still could not make big movements without jolts of pain, but he managed to turn his head to look at whomever was speaking.

"I… I don't know, friend. My mamae said…" she began to cry again and then a shadow appeared over Rik's face.

"Sorry lass…Don't tell us if speaking of it troubles you…" said the older elf. Jowan smiled reassuringly and nodded, as much as he could, in agreement.

"Thank you." Sa'renan said softly. She then looked from Rik to Jowan, the concern returning to her features. "You should eat something, Jowan. Rik, can you help him up please?"

Rik looked down at Jowan. "Aye, lass. Go sit at the table, but try not to be too noisy, you don't want to wake anyone."

With a nod, little Sa'renan was standing, and he settled at the table nearby. Rik gently helped Jowan up off the floor, but the mage could not suppress hisses and painful groans as he tried to stand. The elf helped him slowly and painfully to a chair and he collapsed into its arms, the chains on his wrists rattling as hi hands landed on the table.

"Gonna be all right?" asked Rik.

Jowan nodded. "Please, don't worry about me."

There was a small gentle hand on his shoulder and he winced but then he relaxed.

"It's only me, friend." Sa'renan said softly.

The older elf then served them a few pieces of bread and a bowl of gruel-like stew, and despite the plainness of the meal, the two ate quickly and when he gave them water they drank gratefully.

Rik then showed them to the bedchamber shared by all the slaves and Jowan chose the bed closest to the door, Sa'renan chose the one next to his and Rik took the bunk above Jowan.

It was the first thing close to a proper sleep either of them had in weeks. Jowan was hurting but at least he wasn't as hungry, and the bed was shabby and mattresses were hard but they were softer than the stone floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sa'renan means "One Voice" in the Dalish language. Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!


	3. The Courtyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we learn more about Jowan's former best friend, Amell, (who was not the Hero of Ferelden...hence why he's...wait, why would I spoil my own story in the summary?!)
> 
> Jowan and Fenris' sass is rubbing off on me.
> 
> So sorry for the wait. Life is crazy, but hopefully I will get some more of this story written this summer!  
> I want to draw this pairing so badly, but my artistic talent is sometimes questionable. But maybe I will get something drawn, like cover art or something cool! Thanks for reading, please let me know what y'all think!

Nightmares plagued Jowan’s mind as he slept, thrashing and moaning softly into the thin blanket and shabby sheets. He dreamt of Daylen Amell, speaking to him in a monotone voice and conducting countless enchantments, the sunburst brand that had destroyed what he had been shining clear as day on Daylen’s forehead. Because of Jowan. The other mage had covered his ground, he’d fought _bloody Templars,_ so to speak, so that the blood mage would not be harmed. And Jowan had abandoned him, like a coward.

Jowan may have refused to speak of his former best friend’ fate after that night, but he swore he’d never forget Daylen.

Strong arms shook him awake, and then not long after that he was up on his feet. Fenris was at his bedside, speaking Tevene in a violent tone, and Jowan had no doubt the elf was uttering words he normally would not say in polite company.  
  
“The others were supposed to wake you an hour ago. Rik is being punished, Master wants you there.” Jowan looked up at Fenris as the news set in, returning the elf’s scowl with a blank stare.

Then he remembered. _Rik. The plucky elven man who had managed to cheer him up when he had been on the brink of giving up. On himself, his redemption, on Sa’Renan._

_Sa’Renan!_

Jowan gaped, his body still aching and wounds struggling to heal without much external assistance. Then his gaze frantically veered past Fenris, towards the other beds. They were all empty. “Wh-“

Fenris pulled the blood mage roughly forward by his still-shackled hands. “I do not have time to answer questions, and question the Master at your own peril. I cannot protect you, human.”

“Good.” Jowan said without thinking.

“What?” Fenris looked him in the eye, a frustrated, yet perplexed expression about his angled facial features.  
“The last one who tried to protect or save me is…” he shook his head after trailing off. “You wouldn’t understand.”  
Fenris snarled and lengthened his stride suddenly, lurching his prisoner forward. “You are so complicated. The Master likes his slaves simple. And stupid.”  


They heard a dry chuckle, Jowan realizing too late that it had escaped his own lips. Fenris frowned deeper. “I do not recall telling a joke.”

“It’s nothing. It’s just that I assumed you thought I _was_ stupid.” Jowan’s expression was not humorous at all, but it was much softer than Fenris’ frown.

“I never said you _weren’t_ stupid. I just know you aren’t broken. Not yet.” Fenris said with a soft shrug.  
  
It was Jowan now, who looked perplexed. “ _I beg to differ!”_ Flashes of his old life, his escape from Kinloch Hold, traumatic life on the run, torture at Redliffe and more recent hardships appeared before his eyes and Jowan shook his head, trying to shake away the images, but tears beginning to flow instead.

“ _You are impossible.”_  Fenris rolled his eyes as they rounded a corner, and they reached the main courtyard. Jowan’s heart sank when he saw the terrifying scene before him.

Rik was tied to a post, his hands above his head, and he was on his knees. All the slaves were gathered outside, and guards were posted, one or two near each door and two next to where Rik sat, awaiting punishment. Danarius stood behind his guards, and the crowd of slaves parted to allow the marked elf to escort the chained mage through. The sun bore down on Jowan’s sensitive eyes, and _he_ wasn’t even getting the worst of its unforgiving light yet. Rik was already sweating, and Jowan tried to meet his gaze, but Fenris jerked on his hands sharply.  
 “It is in your best interest not to look, and not to speak to anyone.” The elf whispered, not unkindly, but not softly.  
  
“What about _his?’_ Jowan hissed in response, flicking his head towards Rik. The slaves were whispering now, their hushed words conveniently loud enough so that Jowan and Fenris were out of the earshot of anyone who could hurt them.

Fenris sighed. “You cannot hope to change how things are. Friendship is not worth the loss in the end. Heed my advice, conceal your feelings, do not sacrifice any power you have left. It is not worth it, when it is finished, you will be alone.”  
  
Those words stung, but Jowan’s thoughts were interrupted by the cracking of a whip. It only hit air, but the mage winced as if it had stricken his own flesh. If things were different, it may have been him in Rik’s place.

Fenris stopped leading Jowan when they were in the front of the crowd, and bowed his head when his master’s gaze fell upon them. Jowan, as much as he despised it, looked down at his feet as well.

“Ah, our late bloomer has finally been aroused from his slumber.” Danarius looked displeased.

Jowan gritted his teeth and his hands curled into fists for as long as the manacles would allow without making the muscles on his wrists sore and shaky.

“In addition to the twenty lashes for his failure to abide by my orders _not_ to feed the new slaves until the morning, Rik here will receive fifteen more lashes for Fenris’ offence.”

Fenris winced at Danarius’ words. Jowan’s head shot up at the elf. “What have you done?!” He cried.

Fenris said nothing and evade the mage’s gaze, but he looked ashamed. “I lied to you, human.”

“What?!” Jowan’s words forced a flinch from Fenris, but before he had time to question the elf further Fenris had pinned the mage to the ground, markings glowing brightly, and Jowan’s eyes were wide with fear and surprise.

“ _Fool human. I was supposed to wake you, not the others. They were summoned out here already! Do not guilt me again for it.”_ Fenris roared, as he let him go with a rough shove.

As they scrambled to their feet Jowan mumbled, a little too loudly. “You _bloody hypocrite.”_

Fenris snarled in warning and then Jowan continued, bitterly. “Someone’s taking a heap for _you.”  
_ Their eyes met for a brief second, and then Fenris raised a fist, ready to strike Jowan’s face, but Danarius intervened. Fenris gasped and shook his hand wildly as the magister’s spell lit up his markings like they were on fire. “Fenris, enough! My pet, you are out of line. If you’re going to maim him, wait until he is not entertaining me with his _outstanding humor._ He is a _jester,_ as well as a mage. He speaks out of turn, but his words are witty enough to intrigue!” Danarius smiled cruelly and Jowan’s posture changed, from defensive to downright submission.

“I’m sorry…Master…it will not happen again…” Jowan’s eyes were downcast and his shoulders trembled as the magister reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

“Well, you are about to learn your lesson, aren’t you, my boy? I doubt Rik will intrude upon orders not meant for his personal obedience again after _this._ Punishing you is pointless. I need to wake up the lazy cook anyhow.” Danarius’ grin widened, and he beckoned for the two guards who stood next to Rik to approach. The crowd backed up and this was when Jowan spotted Sa’Renan. She stood next to a very young elven girl, who could not have seen more than four summers yet. The child was crying, and Sa’Renan quietly consoling her, stroking the little girl’s very blonde hair as Jowan had stroked hers and holding the petite body, gently rocking her back and forth.

_Good. She is safe for now._

Jowan’s gaze returned to the guards and Danarius handed one of them the key he’d taken from his pocket. “Remove the restraints only when the elf’s punishment has been carried out.” Danarius ordered.

The guard nodded, and took hold of Jowan’s arm. “Fenris, to my side, pet.”

Once again Fenris was called away from the “common” slaves, put on a pedestal to be envied by the other slaves, and to cause his master to be the center of jealousy in the entire Imperium. And he obeyed. Jowan was still bitter. He hated the idea of letting someone else suffer for his mistakes, _again,_ and to see that Fenris wasn’t doing anything to stop Rik’s punishment, made the mage sick to his stomach.

As the whipping began, Jowan closed his eyes, but try as he might, he could not drown out the screams of the first genuinely kind and cheerful person in this dreadful estate.

His mind went somewhere else altogether. To his past. To Daylen. Had he screamed as Rik was now? When they made him a mindless drone to carry out Templar orders without question? Because Jowan had failed him as a friend. Maybe if Jowan had died on the voyage, or if Danarius had killed him for protecting Sa’Renan, Rik would not be suffering now, because of him, and because Fenris, blasted Fenris, had allowed someone else to take a punishment for _his_ wrongdoing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the sass begins.  
> That tiny blonde elf-child? Orana. Poor little cinnamon roll.


	4. Wren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter, sorry! We learn some information that sets us up for later chapters though!  
> There will be more interaction with Fenris in the next chapter, I promise!

When the brutality of it all was finally over, the rest of the slaves were dismissed. Fenris returned to Danarius’ side and the guards removed the shackles that bound Jowan’s hands at last. T he first thing he did was rub his aching red wrists and then he strode to Rik’s side, as quickly as his shaky legs could carry him. The raven-haired mage struggled to find the knot in the ropes that fastened Rik’s hands above his head. The poor man was dangling by his wrists now and his thin tunic proved useless as protection from the whip’s relentless lashes. Luckily he had passed out about halfway through the whipping, but the damage was still done.

 

Jowan finally found the knot and after five very frustrating minutes he was able to undo it. Rik would have fallen quite a distance, were it not for Jowan’s reaction, catching the other man by one arm as gently as he could. Breaking the elf’s fall somewhat, he eased Rik down to his knees, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to carry him all the way back to the slaves’ quarters. The former blood mage glanced around, desperate for help, but even the children had returned to their duties and he knew better than to ask a guard.  _ At least they don’t seem to care that I untied him.  _ Jowan told himself.

 

Rik groaned, his facial muscles wincing and contorting in agony, but he did not open his eyes.

Jowan frowned. If the elf was awake it would be very painful to move him but there wasn’t much to be done for Rik out here. He’d need healing, and Jowan was terrified to do it out in the open. Or at all, for that matter. Danarius would punish him for certain, and he was bound to find out.

 

“Rik, it’s over.” Jowan said softly and gently. The elf began to cry out and his companion did his best to support his body weight while he came to. “Shhh, I know, it hurts. But they’re gone. It is over.”

 

Rik opened his eyes. He must have recognized Jowan, and then he let out a startled cry. 

 

“No, no, no. It’s okay. You’re going to be all right. I’ll help you-“ Jowan slowly shifted and he now supported almost all Rik’s weight, one arm slung under his shoulder.

 

“No…please…I’ll be fine…” Rik begged. Jowan was dumbfounded.  _ Did he really expect me to just walk away? _ He thought, terrified of even thinking of turning his back.  _ Daylen didn’t expect you to run. You left him to his fate, blood mage. Once a blood mage, always a blood mage _ . A tiny whisper of his guilty conscience quickly caused Jowan to stiffen up. He liked to tell himself it was just his guilt speaking in his mind, but he knew better than that. He tried to mentally shake the demons’ whispers away, but it was Rik who brought the mage’s mind back into the ‘real’ world.

 

“Fenris didn’t want me to take the heap, lad. I volunteered.” Again the words of his fellow slave caused Jowan’s eyes to widen in surprise as he pulled Rik’s arm over his shoulder as gently as he could. The elf hissed as torn flesh and wounded muscle protested the movement. The two began the walk from the courtyard back to the slaves’ quarters and every step was a part of a slow, careful process. The last thing the raven-haired mage wanted was to cause anyone else any more pain.

 

“Why, Rik? Why would you do that? He wouldn’t have done the same for you, or me, or anyone else for that matter.” Jowan said softly with a deep frown.

 

“I promised someone several years ago, that I would keep him safe. We will speak of it behind closed doors, if you promise not to breathe a word of it to anyone. If you do, I would fear for both of our lives.” Rik’s reply was between gasps and hisses, but he suppressed any crying out, difficult though it was.

 

They reached the slaves’ quarters and Jowan lay Rik down on a bottom bunk, on his stomach. No one else was in the room, probably everyone was out tending to the main halls of the mansion and Maker only knew what else.

 

“You don’t have permission to heal me, Jowan. I know you want to, but you mustn’t. ‘Twould only make things worse...later…” Rik said softly, pain and sorrow evident in his formerly cheery and light features.

 

“But they could become infected...you could die!” Jowan cried.

 

“Please, lad. There are worse things than death.”

 

Like tranquility. Jowan thought.  _ Like slavery. _

 

“Please allow me to at least clean and bandage it?” Jowan requested, unsure of what he was allowed to do and what he (or someone else in his stead) would be punished for.

Rik gave him a subtle nod.

 

“Is there any ointment I can use, or poultices?” Jowan asked.

 

Rik narrowed his eyes. “Can you keep a secret?”

 

Jowan nodded. “I have many, what’s one more?” He tried to use humor to lighten the mood, but it did little.

 

Rik lowered his voice to a whisper. “ _I keep a little bit of elfroot cream under my counter, between the flour and the sugar. Tucked behind the honey jug, is a little brown jar. Use it sparingly. I have never used it on myself, and no one else knows I keep it in the kitchen, they assume I got permission. I don’t want anyone to worry.”_ The elf forced a smile, and Jowan returned it with equal trouble letting the grin reach his saddened eyes.

 

“I will be right back.” He was off to the kitchen. As he fumbled under the kitchen counter a lithe figure approached him. He closed his hand around the cool ceramic jar, shut the cupboard door and turned around.

 

“Jowan.” She reached out a hand to touch his face, a little bit of blood had smeared on his cheek. The elven girl’s brow furrowed as she gently traced where the blood was.

He lifted his free hand and took hers softly, lowering it away.

“You’re hurt.”

 

He shook his head. “The blood’s not mine. Rik is here. I brought him here. He’s in a lot of pain, Sa’Renan.”

 

As her name was spoken, Sa’Renan began to tremble. Her eye filled with tears and Jowan didn’t get a chance to ask her why she was upset. 

“My...my name is...Wren...the master...he said I was not to call myself by...that name anymore.H-he said I would sing to him like the little bird I am!”

 

If Jowan could have killed Danarius with a thought, at that moment, seeing Sa’Renan so hurt and lost made something snap inside him. He could not form words, he just took her into his arms and held her, while she cried on his shoulder. “He called me a heathen, with a heathen name! He said ‘there will be no heathen names in this estate!’”

 

Jowan could only hush her to soothe her crying as he rubbed little circles on her shoulders, trying to comfort her, but unable to even console himself.

Then they returned to Rik’s side. Se’Renan stayed with them, and eventually the little girl from the courtyard toddled into the room not five minutes after Jowan began to treat the elf’s wounds.

 

“Papa!” The little girl frowned and started to cry when Sa’Renan got up from her seat beside Rik, let go of his hand and scooped the youngest elf up. “Papa? Papa!”

 

“Shhh. Orana. It’s all right, my little one. Sa’Re- I mean, Wren, will look after you…” At the sound of her father’s voice, Orana quieted and buried her face in the crook of Sa’Renan’s neck. Sa’Renan sniffled and turned around, giving both the wounded man and his attendant a pained look. 

 

“I’m so sorry, my dear. I would trust you to keep a secret, but Orana is only a very young child. She could slip up, and none of us want  _ her  _ at Master’s mercy!” Rik closed his eyes and then they clenched tighter as Jowan finished rubbing the cream on his back.

“Thank you lad. As for Fenris’ tale, I’ll have to tell you another time. The others will be back soon and I’m to cook for the Master and I must be sure none of the other slaves starve.” 

 

With that, Rik sat up slowly and carefully. “Y- _ you’re going back to work like this? _ ” Jowan asked.

 

Rik nodded solemnly. “Slaves don’t get time off, Jowan. Since you’ve no other immediate duties or orders, I could use a bit of help baking apple pies for Master and his guests tonight. There are about four dozen apples that need chopping. Once we’ve all washed up, we’d best get started!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave it to Danarius to take away Sa'Renan's name. I'm just glad he has zero redeeming qualities. But JOWAN, he is the KING of redeeming qualities, no pun intended!
> 
> Do you think I'm funny? No? Okay. :P


	5. The Banquet

As Fenris passed the slaves’ quarters sometime into the late afternoon, he heard soft laughter and good natured chatter. The new mage could be trouble, he thought. The Master knew he had a history of using blood magic, and with his rebellious streak, the raven-haired human was certain to either gain his freedom from the magisterium or get himself killed.

  
Slaves gaining Liberati status was rare, especially when their masters were particularly ruthless, but a human slave, one who had magic, was the most likely to be able to grovel their way to liberation. Fenris knew this, and he hated it.

  
The elf had been ordered to get himself clean and presentable and to pass on the order for the others to do the same, and he’d been allowed two hours to do so.  
Rik was helping his young daughter change into a cleaner dress and Jowan was in the kitchen with some of the others, cutting the last few apples to go into the last batch of pies. Fenris nearly bumped right into the elf who’d clung to Jowan when they had first arrived. Wren, the master had named her. Not her original name, but it was not uncommon for Master to re-name a slave.

It was his right after all.

  
Her eyes widened as she backed away from him. He was not surprised. Fear was a common reaction the others had upon seeing him. He didn’t exactly have a kind or patient air about him. He couldn’t afford to go soft.

  
“I’m sorry, Fenris…” She whimpered.  
She was trembling. Fenris sighed and nodded to her. “Watch your step, young one.” He said gruffly as he slipped past. She left with a bucket, he assumed the others had sent her to fetch water.

  
The chatter grew hushed as the magister’s bodyguard passed through the kitchen. Jowan looked up and Fenris made an effort not to meet his gaze.

  
“We’re required to be presentable and ready to serve the master and his guests in two hours’ time. Anyone who is late is subject to the Master’s punishment. Rik, the dishes have been set, and you will be stationed in the main kitchen along with Cait and Melanne. Everyone else is to meet in the main hall. Remember your place, and don’t do anything daft. One whipping is enough for today. Are we clear?”

  
There was a mix of collective responses confirming the orders had been delivered, then Fenris turned on his heel towards the baths.

  
“Fenris, can I have a word?” the elf whirled around and found himself face to face with Jowan.

  
The former blood mage allowed the elf to step back and he gulped, before he tried and failed again to meet Fenris’ gaze.

  
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry…about before. I didn’t know that Rik volunteered to take your place. That doesn’t make any of it right, or fair, but I blamed you, and I shouldn’t have.” Jowan’s blue grey eyes finally met the elf’s emerald pools, if only for a moment.

  
Fenris took a moment to ponder the other man’s words, then he nodded.“You had no way of knowing, human. Do not dwell on it.”

  
Jowan looked puzzled, then he closed his eyes, facial features relaxing a little. “I don’t know if that means you forgive me, but thank you.”

  
Fenris was halfway down the hall by the time Jowan’s eyes opened. The mage sighed, and he went to find some fresh clothes to change into before heading to the baths.

  
He hadn’t had a bath in Maker-knows-how-long, but he rushed through it to continue preparing for Danarius’ dinner guests. He ran a comb through his long raven hair, which fell just past his shoulders. It wasn’t by any means as clean as he would have liked it, but a little bit of soap and water would have to suffice.

  
Once he’d dressed and tied half of his hair back to keep out of his face, Jowan helped the others bring the pies into the main kitchen so they could cool enough to eat. The mage was nervous about Danarius’ banquet, but he was also anxious to get Rik alone, so he could hear the important story of why he’d volunteered to take such a brutal punishment in Fenris’ stead.

  
The slaves met in the main hall and they were all on time. The children who were old enough were to tend to the guests alongside the adults, but those who were too small to reach the tables were allowed to play in the courtyard. Guards were posted out there but no one was appointed to watch over them.  
Orana was among those deemed too young to serve any real purpose but she went happily outside, holding the hand of the oldest of the children, a boy of about seven years old. Jowan observed the others as they took their places and Sa’Renan nudged him in the side gently.

“You all right, friend?”

  
He nodded, realizing he was standing very rigid. He was nervous and doing a poor job of hiding it.

  
“It’s all right. Everyone is on time.” She rubbed his shoulder, and he relaxed for a moment, but the feeling of reassurance was gone as well as her warm, soft touch, as soon as their master entered he main hall.

  
The guests filed in shortly after and they slowly made their way to the dining table. Jowan stood next to Sa’Renan as the guests took their seats. They were dressed well, men in flashy suits with colorful sashes and women in extravagant gowns and hairstyles few outside nobility could even afford to think of.

  
Hadriana was there. Jowan’s eyes narrowed when he saw her. She smirked knowingly. A test of his self-restraint. If he moved or spoke now it would only make his situation worse, and he already knew that was very possible. He sighed softly and lowered his head, then an older magister waved him over to top off a wine glass. He dipped his head and poured, with great care not to spill. Then he returned to his spot next to Sa’Renan, who had just finished pouring another magister’s wine.

  
Appetizers came out after a grueling hour of standing and occasionally walking over to refill wine glasses. Rik was not serving, he was back in the kitchen, and Jowan, Sa’Renan and two others were sent back into the kitchen to help finalize the preparations for the main course.  
Rik shot a reassuring smile Jowan’s direction and Jowan returned the grin briefly.

The former blood mage then joined the others to serve the dinner platters. When Cait, the first fellow human slave Jowan had seen so far, handed him a serving of pork with a little, heavily dressed salad on the side, he smiled at her.

The haggard looking woman quickly looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.

  
“That one goes to Magister Xander, in the lavender suit.” She muttered. He was puzzled by her mannerisms, but thought nothing of it as he walked out with the platter of food.

  
Magister Xander was sitting near Danarius. He appeared to only be a few years older than Jowan, and he had a high and mighty air about him, even if he wasn’t cruel. He laughed and joked alongside Danarius and Hadriana and all the others. Were it not for Jowan’s status he might even have been fascinated by the social structures of the Tevinter Magisters…

He stepped close to Xander, which unfortunately meant closer to Hadriana and Danarius, who was being guarded by Fenris from behind. Jowan lowered the dish of delicious looking but grossly filling food onto Xander’s placemat.

  
“Ah, thank you, lad! A fine evening for a party, isn’t it?!” The magister reached up and clapped Jowan’s shoulder and the former blood mage shied away. It was obvious now how intoxicated the well-dressed man was. He had to be, no Magister who frequented Danarius’ estate would ever stoop to being kind to a slave.

  
“Aye, what’s the matter with you, boy?!” The young Magister frowned, looking almost genuinely hurt by Jowan’s reaction.

  
Danarius glared at him then, and Hadriana went quiet too.  
“N-nothing, Ser. Nothing at all. Please forgive me, I was startled-“Jowan stammered.

  
Danarius’ frown deepened and Hadriana suppressed a chuckle, placing a hand over her mouth.

  
The youngest of the Magisters looked to Danarius. “The boy seems like the jumpy sort. Won’t last long in your crowd, Magister Danarius.” Magister Xander then began to eat his salad, taking a bite of the heavily dressed lettuce first.

  
“Ah, dear Magister Xander, ignore the boy’s antics, he is new. Perhaps I shall have my Fenris knock some sense into him before the day is through. Perhaps over dessert a sparring session could be arranged? I do need to test the boy’s limits properly.” Danarius carried on as if they were discussing the weather.

  
Jowan went pale as a ghost, and it took everything in him not to drop to his knees and beg his master for forgiveness. His magic could be useful in a fight but that was provided he would even be allowed to use it, and somehow, he doubted he would be.

  
Hot tears rained down Jowan’s cheeks and he stole a glance at Fenris, who raised a dark brow at him and then resumed a blank stare across the room.

  
“Lighten up, Danny boy, the lad was just scared. His time will co-“the young Magister’s slurred speech was interrupted by a high pitched cough, and then another, then he dropped to the floor, limp, at Jowan’s feet. Danarius, Hadriana and Jowan all collectively gasped.

  
“Fenris, check him, my pet, quickly!” Danarius called. Fenris sprang into action and all but shoved Jowan out of the way. He dropped to one knee and felt for the man’s pulse.

  
Then he looked up from the man’s lifeless body. “He is dead.”

  
Fenris stood up, and Danarius followed. Hadriana didn’t even look smug like she always did.

  
“This is obviously a poisoning.” Danarius stated simply, and there was another collective gasp, then everyone, guest and slave alike, began to mumble and whisper.

  
Jowan gulped as soon as the word ‘poisoning’ was uttered.

  
“It is no coincidence that the one who delivered our dear Magister Xander’s meal, is the very same man who poisoned Arl Eamon of Redcliffe earlier this year in Ferelden!”

Danarius shot a pointed glare at Jowan, who wished he could have shrank away from the magister, but his feet were frozen in place.

  
“I expected better of you, my dear boy. But alas, you will die, and in doing so you will be made an example of. An example no one in this estate envies.” Jowan opened his mouth to speak but no words would come.

  
“Nothing to say then? Ah, well. That was your chance.” Danarius nodded to Fenris. “Bring him to the center of the room.” Fenris nodded and muttered, “Yes, Master,” before grabbing Jowan’s arm and dragging him around the table. Guests gasped as they passed, whispering to each other.

Sa’Renan was trying to get to them, but two male slaves were struggling to keep her away. Jowan met her eyes and the look on her face broke his heart.

  
When they reached the center of the room the elf stopped dragging Jowan, but the mage did not stop trying to free himself from Fenris’ grasp.

“Don’t do this…” He finally managed. “Please, it wasn’t me, please!”

A slap to the face with a gauntleted hand silenced the mage’s pleas. He caught a glance of Sa’Renan through watery eyes. She was crying hysterically, and her struggles to reach him were frantic now.  
There was nothing she or any of the other slaves could do to stop their master’s cruel whims being carried out, nor could they ease the suffering of his victims.

  
Fenris pushed Jowan to the ground, a sharply gauntleted hand restraining each of the mage’s slim shoulders. There was a pause. No one said anything, Jowan just stared up into Fenris’ emerald pools with wide, pleading eyes. “Fenris, I beg you-“ he began again.

  
Then Fenris’ markings lit up. “Maker’s breath!” Jowan cried, feeling the song of Lyrium stronger than he ever had before.

  
“Slowly, my pet. Make him suffer before he meets this Maker of his.” Danarius called out the order to Fenris.

The elf phased his right hand through Jowan’s chest and held his throat with his left. Jowan couldn’t push the elf off him, he was trying, but fear and pain made him weaker by the second.

  
He screamed when Fenris squeezed his heart. Not hard enough to do much damage; the master wanted a show. After he withdrew his hand Jowan gasped and cried, and then tried again to push Fenris off him.

  
The white-haired elf shoved the dark-haired mage back onto the floor, hard. Jowan could feel his mana pooling at his fingertips. Channeling it he began to strain his mind to focus for more force.

Then Jowan released that force and Fenris was jolted back, nearly bumping into an end table.

The crowd gasped and Danarius frowned. Jowan struggled to stand and once he was on his feet his first instinct was to set Fenris aflame, and then run. But that would have been suicide. Guards were posted at every door. Fenris wasn’t really to blame for this anyway.

  
Fenris was angry now, or at least he appeared to be.

“Big mistake, human.” Fenris snarled as his marking pulsed and flared again.

  
“I’ve made a lot of those.” Jowan said between labored breaths. Then Fenris punched him, but the gauntleted fit did not stop when it made contact with Jowan’s belly. It phased right through and grabbed a nerve at the base of the mage’s spine, then Fenris began to squeeze.

  
Jowan howled and screamed in pain and Fenris held him in place as he tried to writhe away.  
Fenris pulled out his hand and was about to deliver another blow when there was a loud cry from the hallway leading to the kitchen.

  
“STOP! IT WASN’T HIM!” Fenris didn’t let go of the mage’s shoulder but he waited for his master’s command to continue.  
Danarius grumbled angrily but then waved a hand at Fenris.

 

"Hold him, but keep him alive for now. This should be entertaining.”  
Jowan tried to collapse but Fenris held him up by his arms as the owner of the interrupting voice stepped forward. Rik.

  
“Please pardon the interruption, Master. I saw one of Magister Giovanna’s slaves sneak into the kitchen not long before dinner was served. This slave approached Cait, one of the kitchen workers. They were whispering and it was suspicious, and the other slave passed Cait a small pouch, but I thought not much of it until I heard what was going on out here! But this slave was just unfortunate enough to be the one delivering Magister Xander’s food. He did not prepare it at all, you have my word.”

Danarius raised an eyebrow at the young elf’s statement. Then a cold, angry female voice was raised.

"Just what are you implying, slave?”

  
It was an older magister who spoke up next. “You did always hate Magister Xander’s attitude, Lady Giovanna. And you envy his talent-”

  
“What?” Giovanna half-shreiked. “How dare you imply that I would kill my own nephew-“

  
“You wouldn’t, my lady. You would pay some lowly slave to do it.” Danarius accused. Hadriana scoffed.

  
“Guards!” Danarius shouted. “Arrest Lady Giovanna! I will handle matters with my own slaves now.” Two guards flanked the female magister and they took her out the door, never to be seen again.

  
“Now, cook, where did you last see our dear Cait?” Danarius asked.

  
“I-in the kitchen, Master. She was preparing the apple pies-“ Rik sounded genuinely sad.

  
“Fetch her. Do not tell her why, because I am sure she already knows.” Danarius ordered with a malicious grin.

  
Fenris was still holding Jowan by the arms, when Danarius turned towards them.

"Take him back to the slaves’ quarters and make sure he does not die. He is more valuable alive, especially after that display of magic earlier. I didn’t think he had it in him.”

  
Jowan was breathing very heavily and he no longer struggled against Fenris as the elf lifted him up onto his feet. Fenris slung the mage’s arm over his shoulder and helped him slowly and painfully exit the room.

 


	6. Sa'Renan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath/continuation of Danarius' gathering.
> 
> Some backstory on Sa'Renan, and some much needed interaction between the former blood mage and the (soon-to-be) former slave.  
> Things are beginning to look up for them, but there will likely be a time skip between this chapter and the next!  
> There are mentions of sexual assault/non-con in this chapter, but nothing explicit happens on screen in this chapter.
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

Jowan was barely hanging on to consciousness by the time Fenris got him to the living quarters. The slaves had released Sa’Renan and she followed them to the barracks. By the time she got there Fenris had already placed Jowan on the same bottom bunk he had pulled him off so many hours ago. The mage was weak, and Fenris was almost insulted that he been instructed to play nursemaid, but he had little choice in the matter. If Jowan died now, Fenris knew he would not be rewarded as he would have been before his master called him off.

Jowan cried out as the elf placed him on the bed. He could feel a sharp pain shooting through his back and legs, and a deep aching in his chest. Then he heard a soft, sad voice. “Jowan! Jowan, no! Please, let me through!”

Sa’Renan cried out, begging Fenris to let her past. Fenris began to try to explain to her his duty, but to no avail. “I have to make sure he doesn’t-“

“Please, he’s the only friend I have in the world! He needs me!” Sa’Renan’s voice was louder now, bolder than ever before.

Fenris sighed and continued to hold the girl back, but his grip on her softened. He placed a hand on each of her slender shoulders, and pushed her backwards.  
“Listen to me, Wren. Listen. He needs a healer. You can’t help him any more than I can. You mustn’t call anyone a friend here. I know he has been at your side and it may be different elsewhere but here, not a lot is certain. One thing that is very certain, is that a slave cannot afford to call anyone ‘friend.’ It is a dangerous word. This man needs strength and healing, not to be coddled., child.”

“What is the harm? Why does it matter? Me staying with him will not hurt him! If anything it will help!  If he dies I’ll have no one, and if he lives…he’ll be okay.” Sa’Renan allowed a sob to escape her lips and then she continued. “Please let me through.” Her hazel eyes bore into Fenris’ emerald pools, and of course he broke the eye contact, but her pleading tone and desperate expression made Fenris think.

She did have a point. And if the mage died, Fenris would most likely be the one punished for the failure to keep him alive.  
“Keep it quiet. I will go and fetch a potion, and water…make sure he stays awake, little one. If you’re here, you cannot be idle. Do whatever you must do to keep him from passing out. There shouldn’t be serious damage…. he’s lucky Master told me to go slow…” Fenris sighed. “Get him to talk to you, and don’t let his eyes close.”

Then Fenris let go of Sa’Renan, and the tears welled in the female’s eyes. She looked about ready to throw her arms around him and hug him but he sensed that and he quickly made his exit. He would return as soon as he could with a potion for the mage. Why are all mages so feeble? He asked himself. Then he shuddered at the idea of expressing that frustration to his master.

The young elven woman rushed to Jowan’s side, her hand reaching for his. Jowan’s eyes flickered open and then quickly closed when he realized Sa’Renan was there. She was touching his wrist and rubbing his scarred hand. Normally he hated it when something so much as brushed against his left hand without his knowledge or consent, but he was in too much pain to give it much mind.

“Sa’Renan…” he whimpered softly.

A hand wiped sweat and tears from the former blood mage’s cheeks, then the gesture was repeated on his forehead and temples. “It’s going to be all right. Stay with me, Jowan, stay with me. Talk to me, friend.”

“It h-hurts…I’m sorry you had t-to see…” Jowan began to apologize, his breathing becoming shallow and labored.

“It’s…all right, Jowan. We’re going to help you. You’ll pull through. You’re strong.” She squeezed his hand gentle, if anything, to get his mind off the pain. Fenris had not kept his hand solid as he pulled through Jowan’s flesh, so there were no visible wounds from the elf phasing, only pain and bruises from the gauntlets.

He managed a small shake of his head. “I’m not strong.” Jowan’s voice was soft but he was regaining his ability to breathe deeply.

“I think you are very strong…you saved my life, Jowan…even though it wasn’t easy. You did.” She tried to smile, to be a source of strength for him, even though he felt weak at the moment. “You gave me the courage to speak even when I thought I couldn’t.”

“Promise me that if I die, you won’t forget about me like everyone else hopefully has. I want someone good to remember me. The good things I did…. will never overpower the bad, but-“

“Don’t. You aren’t going to die, and you’re going to recover. And we’re going to get through this together.” She assured, even though his words broke her heart.

“How?” he asked. “We can’t get out.”

Sa’Renan pondered for a moment and then she pointed to the scar on her left cheek. It was dulled from years of healing but also jagged, like someone had hit her cheek with a piece of metal. It was shaped like an arrowhead.

“My old master...was a terrible man. Mamae, my brother and two sisters and I were his only slaves. He…he sold my father when I was very young. Mamae said she didn’t even get to say goodbye. When I grew to be of age my master would…take me to bed with him. My brother found out and tried to protect me…but that only made it worse for all of us. One day mother tried to stop him and master had been drinking…he hit her on the head with a heavy metal candlestick, again and again until she was…he killed her. Right in front of me. Then he gave me this scar, with the same candlestick.”

“Sa’Renan…. I’m so sor-“

“I am not finished, Jowan.” Her eyes narrowed as she continued, determined to complete her tale. It was the first time she felt comfortable enough to confide in anyone else about this. “That night I ran away. I never looked back. I don’t know where my brother and sisters are but they were always stronger than I was. I would have taken them with me, but I ran quickly and carelessly, and by the time I was in a place where I could think about them again, it was too late to go back. I felt awful, but if I had gone back I would have been caught and we all could have been punished.”

“I understand completely.” Jowan said softly, deep in thought of Amell and Lily, and several other friends he’d left behind when he’d left the tower. “I fled from my past too. My friends at the Circle of Magi are gone from my life now. The worst part of it all? They’re most likely paying for my mistakes and will never be forgiven for their part in my escape. They wanted to leave with me but…my best friend told me to run and I’m very sure he never made it out of the tower alive. And…. then there was Lily. She was a chantry initiate, and our affair was forbidden, but that didn’t stop us from seeing each other…until we tried to escape and I used blood magic. She couldn’t get past that. I thought she loved me but her love for the chantry was too engraved in her heart. She turned herself in, and I don’t know what the templars did to her.”

Jowan was able to stay calm throughout his explanation but towards the end his breathing got shaky again. “I’m sorry, Jowan. I’m so, so sorry.” Sa’Renan said softly. Jowan nodded.

“It is not your fault, sweetheart. I brought it all on myself because I was too fearful.”

She gave his hand another gentle squeeze and shushed him softly. “You must have been terrified.”

He nodded. “Things were just starting to look up for me when I was near a port and Mistress Hadriana and her men found me, and you know the rest. What about you? How did you end up on that ship?”

“I was trying to get to Ferelden. Elves are treated better there than they are up North. I grew up on the outskirts of the Free Marches. I don’t think people there are permitted to own slaves, but it was a small, desolate village and few travelers ever came through. I was told my grandfather sold himself to a relative of mas-of that man. So, when the laws changed everywhere else, most freemen of our village freed their slaves, but my former master did not. Anyway, the captain of the ship bound for Ferelden was wary, uneasy about something. Raised as a slave, I picked up on his discomfort and panicked. I bolted across the dock and away from him. Looking back on it now, I think he was just nervous about the Blight. I don’t know, but I wonder what might have happened had I boarded his ship. I got in line to board a ship bound for Orlais instead, but that was when I was caught by the slavers. They came out of a nearby tavern when they spotted me. I took one look at them, bolted again. Men with weapons approaching an elven woman? Never ends well. And if only I’d run sooner, because by the Creators I was right!”

Jowan frowned. “So they got you…”

“And you know the rest.” She said, nodding, and her voice returning to meekness as she repeated what he’d said at the end of his story.

“What Fenris did-“ Sa’Renan started, but then Jowan interrupted.

“He’s terrifying. That’s unlike any magic I’ve ever seen!”  The panic rose in his voice as he sputtered the words out. “Is he coming back?”

“Shhh. Shh. He went to go get you a potion and some water, Jowan. He won’t hurt you again…he followed Master’s orders, but he takes no pleasure in hurting you, I think he’s as much a victim as we all are.” She brought a hand gently across his forehead to sweep away dark locks and Jowan gave a shaky sigh.

“How is he a victim? He’s one of us, but then he’s not. We suffer, and suffer, and he accepts it! Stands by and lets poor Rik take an extra beating for him. And after that, he just…left him there.” Jowan’s tone was bitter but he was still speaking in a shaky tone and tears were threatening to fall.

“I don’t think he had a choice, Jowan. Fenris isn’t the monster you think he is…he’s just been here a long time. When did you realize the Templars had hurt you enough? I know you did what you had to do to survive. You fought against your captors. As did I, but now, we should follow Fenris’ example and endure. We’re too weak to fight back now. But we won’t always be. Once we’ve tasted freedom, that’s something nobody can ever take away from us, Jowan. You know that.”

Jowan felt tears streaming down his cheeks again, and the pain in his chest ached more and more with each choked sob.

“I know none of this is right. But he doesn’t. How can I make him understand?”

“You can’t. If he comes ‘round, that’s what will happen, but forcing it will cause more damage than letting it be.” Sa’Renan went quiet just in time for Fenris to enter the room again, but she still looked up at him with fear in her eyes.

“What’s going on, you two?” A dark eyebrow was raised as the question was posed. The elf’s tone was even and he didn’t sound upset, but he looked perplexed as his gaze floated from the mage to the elven girl at his side. Neither of them were sure how much he’d heard, if he heard anything at all, but Fenris didn’t let on that he knew anything new or exciting.

Jowan went pale and began to tremble all over, and Sa’Renan didn’t let go of his hand, or take her other hand away from his forehead.

“I’ll need to check the bruises. If any of them broke the skin I’ll clean them, and Master instructed me that you are to take one elfroot potion. I have it here, and then you,” he held up the bottled potion and then gestured towards Sa’Renan. “Are required back in the Main Hall for the execution of Magister Xander’s murderer. Everyone save Jowan and myself are required to attend.”

This time it was Sa’Renan who went pale. She ducked her head and gave Fenris a subtle nod, before rising from her seat next to Jowan on the cot. She gave his hand a final squeeze before exiting the room. Jowan heard a few sobs before she reached the door.

“I’m surprised you aren’t the one holding the axe.” Jowan said, with a hint of hostility in his tone.

“Alas, no. Master requires my presence…later, but given what just happened, I only have half the time to prepare myself. The rest of the time, I must fix what I damaged.” Fenris spoke softly, and Jowan noticed a tiny tinge of pink flushing down the tips of the elf’s ears, then it clicked.

Fenris’ expression… He knew that look anywhere. One of the Surana twins from the Circle Tower had given it to him once, and a week later, a Templar who frequented their classes was “reassigned.” It had turned out he’d been sneaking into her chamber at night, and she finally snapped and told Irving.

Jowan felt his stomach churn. Any resentment he’d had towards the elf was gone, at least for the time being.

“Are…are you all right?” the former blood mage asked, something akin to concern in his tone.

Fenris was caught completely off-guard by the mage’s question. There was a moment of silence, and the elf looked around subtly to make sure they were truly alone.  
“I cannot answer that, mage. But I can ask you the same question. Will you be able to rise tomorrow morning? The master wants you in his sitting room an hour after sunrise…to discuss your duties. You apparently impressed him by blasting me into a table.”

Jowan frowned even deeper. “I’m really sorry about that. This is a whole big mess-“

“Do not apologize. You may have saved your own life, with your magic.” Fenris’ tone sounded lighter somehow, grateful for the change of topic, perhaps. “Sa’Renan was right, you know. I took no pleasure in what happened today. Any of it. I must follow orders, in order to stay safe…if you can call being your master’s personal body guard ‘safe.’”

Jowan gasped. “You mean you-“

“I heard most of it. One thing about elves that makes us terrible slaves. We eavesdrop without meaning to. Master hates it, but we cannot help but have keen hearing. For me, it is vital on the battlefield. It is only an inconvenience inside, where sound carries.” Fenris spoke softly, but he was much less cross than he had been to Jowan in the past. He almost sounded…sheepish? But Jowan shuddered nonetheless.

“ So, I suppose you’re telling him-“

“No.” Fenris let out the word crisply. “Just this once…you’ve been maimed enough for one day. But be careful. I don’t want to see you lose your tongue over something daft such as gossip…”

“Sweet Andraste, thank you!” Jowan said under his breath.

“Here, less talking, more healing. Drink this.” Fenris shifted uncomfortably at the sudden and emotional response to his assurance. He handed Jowan the potion after popping the cork of the bottle.

“Thanks.” Jowan breathed before he drank.

He felt his body tingle a little as the potion went down, but his chest felt better, and he felt strong enough to sit up. Fenris watched him carefully, but allowed him ample space, as the mage was still wary of him.

Once Jowan sat up Fenris spoke again. “Can you remove your shirt? I need to clean anything that broke the skin.”

“I can,” Jowan replied softly.

Fenris nodded for him to do so, and Jowan struggled to pull his plain tunic off. Once his chest was bare it was apparent there was a lot of bruising, but only two bruises broke the skin to warrant cleaning. One of these bruises was from when Fenris’ gauntleted hand had struck his face.

Fenris was removing said gauntlets now, revealing more strands of Lyrium, one along each finger on both sides. That must have hurt, Jowan thought, wincing.

“What?” The elf noticed the flinch.

“Oh, it’s just those markings on your skin. Do…they hurt?” Jowan asked.

“Yes.” Fenris answered abruptly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Jowan looked away from the elf, who began to dip a cloth into the bowl of water he’d brought with him.  
Fenris then touched the cloth to the cut on Jowan’s chest. His touch was gentle and the water was warm, but Jowan still flinched away.

“You’re so jumpy.” Fenris stated.

“Can you blame me?” Jowan asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Not at all.” Jowan could have sworn Fenris’ expression had softened with his response, but it was probably just the dim lighting in the room.


	7. Fenris' Past; According to Rik

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait! 
> 
> Very plot heavy chapter!

The next three weeks came and went without much incident. Jowan was not called to Danarius’ sitting room as Fenris told him he would be. Instead, he was assigned to assist a few other slaves in cleaning the guards’ barracks until further notice, because Danarius and Hadriana were called away by the Senate.

They had witnessed the murder of Lord Xander and their testimonies were required. There had been two days between the incident and their departure, but in the hasty preparations for their trip Jowan imagined he’d been forgotten, and he was all right with that, in all honesty.

  
Fenris was dressed in polished armor and required to be at Danarius’ side in addition to a small unit of his master’s favored swordsmen. Jowan had seen them leave, but he didn’t envy Fenris one bit. The elf was wearing heavier armor than usual, but he’d been badly bruised in a hard sparring session the day before, and walked with a noticeable limp as a result. His sparring partner was quickly applauded by his fellow guards, but Danarius had been less than impressed. The magister had quickly lost his temper and commanded the other soldiers to beat the guardsman to within an inch of his life and then throw him out of the estate.

  
Danarius’ soldiers varied in temperament but for the most part they had thick skin and downcast eyes, important if one worked for a powerful magister such as Danarius because he liked everything to be perfect, and when it wasn’t, someone would be ridiculed, or worse.

  
Jowan avoided speaking to the guards unless he was spoken to, because many of them dealt with the stress of their jobs by taking out their frustrations on the slaves. For the most part they knew not to do any serious damage, but humiliation or degradation were not considered serious enough damage of course.

  
They’d laugh and jeer at the scar on Sa’Renan’s face, or they would berate Rik for being too slow when he cooked their meals, even though he had his young daughter to look after.

  
The injustices infuriated Jowan but there had been little he could do save for offering words of encouragement and kindness to Rik and consoling a crying, discouraged Sa’Renan after a long and difficult day.

  
One day, a large group of guardsmen went out to spar and Jowan, Rik and Sa’Renan had finished with the day’s duties. Rik seemed quieter than usual and he’d slipped up several times while working, spilled a bucket of soapy water and been knocked to the ground and beaten by one of the guards around lunchtime.

  
Jowan had seen the whole thing, and would have swallowed his fear and tried to stop the beating Rik was receiving but another soldier had gotten there first, telling his friend to take it easy and go easy on the hard liquor while he was on duty before he killed a valuable slave.  
It was surprising, but Jowan had thanked the man for interfering. He’d been acknowledged with a curt nod and ordered to help Sa’Renan clean up the mess and get Rik out of the barracks. They were told to be present in a few hours when the master returned from the city.

  
“You sure you don’t need healing, Rik?” Jowan asked softly as they ate bread and stew for supper. The elf shook his head and kept his gaze down while slowly finishing the dishes. “They won’t know…”

  
“Please, Jowan, enough. I don’t want to feel magic on my skin…it’s too painful.”

  
“It’s not that bad, friend. It’s only healing magic and it won’t take lon-“

“No. I said no. Please, just let it be.” The elf sounded stern, not his usual kind and good-natured self.

  
Jowan was quiet for a few minutes and then surprisingly, Rik spoke.

  
“Remember the story I was going to tell you? Before Orana walked in, after I was whipped?”

  
Jowan nodded. “Something about Fenris, right?” He asked, recalling the conversation about why he’d promised to protect the other elf whenever possible.

  
“Aye. I think now would be a good time to tell you that he’s got a sister. He doesn’t know it, and that is one of master’s ways of keeping him tame. Those markings took his memories away, and his old life. His mother was a sickly tailor owned by a middle-class mercenary’s wife, and his father was a stable hand in Danarius’s barn. They had been allowed to marry, and his sister is seven or eight years older than he is. Her name is Varania, she also…. Had magic, and she’s in another city now… but, she and I were…. we were… in love.

  
The mercenary and his wife used to live next door to our estate before they moved away. From what I know, the master wanted test subjects for the lyrium infusion. He held a tournament for local slaves to compete in, and Fenris, known as Leto at the time, trained to enter, because there was a generous boon offered to the winner. He was eighteen years old and fearless, and competed valiantly. When he won, the only thing he wanted was for his mother and sister to be freed.

  
Orana was a babe at the time, and Varania could not afford to look after her. She came to me that night in tears and I was given permission to look after our daughter upon my love’s departure. We got to say goodbye but then she was gone. I asked her if she’d been permitted to say goodbye to her brother, but she’d cried harder at that, saying that he’d already been taken for the ritual.  
She and their mother left the city and were heartbroken because they had no coin.

Fenris wasn’t told anything and no one is permitted to tell him anything about them or his past…but we all know. My Varania made me promise I’d take care of and protect her younger brother as well as possible…she told me someday she’d be back, free us all, and that we could all be a family again. But it’s been such a long time and she had no coin to her name, and slaves cannot receive letters, even if she learned to write and I to read.”

  
Jowan listened to the sad tale and he understood, though it made his blood boil. The magister had torn apart a family worse than even templars could.

  
“I’m so sorry, Rik…I hope she does come back…there’s at least a chance! Don’t let your hope dwindle. When the sun is gone, have faith. It might be a while, but it will rise again.”

  
Rik nodded, and Orana came into the room. “Hey there sweetheart. What are you up to?”

  
“The matter is back.”  
The young girl looked sad.

Jowan’s heart sank.  
“Now Orana, you mean the _master_ is back, yes?” Rik asked his daughter whilst he gave Jowan and Sa’Renan a pained look.

  
As Rik tended to his young daughter Jowan and Sa’Renan made their exit.

  
“Ah, there you are, mage. Master wants to see you in an hour. My advice, don’t be late.” Fenris said as they passed him in the hall.

  
Jowan nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to wear my best Orlesian perfume for my audience.” His tone was bitter.

  
Fenris snorted. “For the Maker’s sake, mage, don’t give master ammunition to have you flayed. He’s in no mood for shenanigans and I can attest to that.”

  
“What do you mean?” Jowan asked, falling into stride next to the elf, joined by a hesitant Sa’Renan.

  
“He’s impatient.” Fenris stated simply.

  
“Well, that’s new to all of us.” Jowan retorted, rolling his eyes.

  
Fenris groaned in frustration. “Just…don’t do anything stupid, all right? He won’t hesitate to punish you.”

“Why do you care, of all people?” Jowan pressed.

  
“I’m not a monster. Your little friend said so herself.” Fenris glanced sideways towards Sa’Renan.

  
Jowan nodded. “You remember what was said then. I understand.”

“Need I remind you that your words could have resulted in you both being punished? Danarius doesn’t take kindly to his pet hearing such things.” Fenris worded the last phrase almost as bitterly as Jowan had sounded.

  
“Yes, well…thanks for keeping your word. Although, it’s in your best interest to know those things. Among other things.” Jowan wasn’t really going to tell him. There was a time and a place for such things, but of course, such information wouldn’t be easy to take in, and the spread of it would likely have dire consequences.

  
Sa’Renan shot Jowan a questioning glance, but luckily for both of them Fenris’ gaze was downcast again by the time they looked up at each other. Jowan gave a small sigh and shook his head at the little elf.

  
“I am required to… _attend_ to the master now. Remember not to be late.” Fenris rounded a corner and Jowan sighed, louder this time.

  
“I’m sorry for that. See you later, Fenris.”  
He gave the elf a knowing, sympathetic look, ignoring Sa’Renan’s confusion for the moment.

  
It was Fenris who sighed this time.

“Thanks, mage. I’ll see you in one hour.”  
Then Fenris disappeared down the hall into the magister’s private quarters.

  
“What was that all about?” Sa’Renan asked softly as they continued to walk.

  
Jowan looked pained. “Remember that conversation we had? After the party?”

  
“Oh. Before poor Cait…”

  
“Yes. Let’s just say you were very correct when you said Fenris is as much a victim as we are…if not more.”

  
Jowan chose his words carefully as he whispered them into the young elf’s ear.

  
“I see. Understood. Do you want me to help you get cleaned up for Master?” She changed the topic as another slave hurried by, presumably to clean up some sort of mess to evade punishment.

  
“You don’t have to do that, friend.” Jowan smiled.

  
“It’s okay. I’ve got a little while before I have to help with supper and I’d be more than happy to. I could braid your hair?”

  
Jowan chuckled and gave her a pleasant, yet amused look. “You want to braid my hair?”

  
“Oh, yes. Or I could help you brush it out, then tie it back for you?” She asked, the look on her face was full of eagerness and she placed a hand on his shoulder gently.

  
“Okay, I suppose so.” He smiled warmly at her, realizing that she had lived a lonely and miserable life before, and probably had few people save for her immediate family who were ever kind to her. He was becoming her first friend, and he found the idea of denying her request just too heartbreaking.

  
She laughed then, and gripped his wrist, gently pulling him along until they reached the slaves’ quarters. He found that he loved the sound of her laughter. It made him forget that he was in a place full of pain and sorrow. She was so pure and although she was far from ‘innocent’, Jowan figured that they were alike, and felt a kinship to her that he hadn’t felt since…Daylen.

  
She started with the comb and ran it through his raven locks as gently as she could. Then she wet his hair down a little to make brushing a little easier. “There, now let me know if I’m pulling on you, okay?”

  
“Mhm.” Jowan wasn’t concerned that the elf would hurt him. Truth be told nobody had paid much attention to Jowan’s appearance since he’d lived at the tower, and it felt good to be looked after by someone who genuinely cared for his wellbeing, instead of just some senior enchanter yelling at him for being late to lectures with his hair in a messy ponytail.  
How was he supposed to take care of himself under those conditions anyway?

Sa’Renan finished running the comb through his hair and then she worked her fingers through it.

  
“There, nice and smooth. You’ve got beautiful hair, Jowan.” She said softly.

  
“Heh, thanks. Nobody’s ever really paid much attention to it, to be honest.”

  
“That’s too bad, I’ll do it every day for you.” She replied.

  
“Thank you…” he said as he smiled again.  
After tying part of his hair back and out of his face Sa’Renan patted Jowan’s shoulder and he stood up from his chair.

“Good luck.” She said. Her expression was soft but concerned.

  
He gave her a reassuring smile and took her hand, squeezing it in his for a moment. “It’ll be all right, my friend. You’ll see.”

  
Then he took the walk to Danarius’ sitting room alone.

  
The door was open, so he entered, if not a little hesitantly.

  
“Ah. There you are. Jowan the blood mage. I understand you have been on your best behavior since the little…incident, at my banquet earlier this month.” Danarius looked upon Jowan’s nervous form the way a cat views a caged canary. Fenris stood behind the magister, who lounged in a large cushioned chair.

The elf bore his usual stoic expression, eyes forward, down slightly and not meeting anyone’s gaze.

  
“Yes, Master…I’ve been trying not to make any scenes.” Jowan nodded softly and spoke clearly. His body language was submissive, and his hands clasped together in front of him and he was wringing them nervously.

  
“Good, yes, well, you’re smarter than you look, I suppose. You show potential, my dear boy. Far too much to spend the rest of your days mopping messes and living amongst filthy elves. You are a mage. Not the most powerful or the most refined in skill, but a mage nonetheless. Your magic has saved your life in more ways than one. Your willingness to utilize the schools the Southern Chantry forbids, first of all, makes you all the more valuable, whether you realize or like it or not. Secondly, you turned your spell upon my pet, when he was supposed to execute you. And here I thought you had no backbone, no willpower.”

  
There was a pause.

  
“Master?”

  
Jowan dared a glance up towards the magister’s face. He looked past him, of course, not gazing directly into his eyes, but just past him. He focused on Fenris.

  
“Is there anything you would like to say? You may speak freely. Slaves rarely get that right.”

  
Jowan hesitated. “I didn’t want to hurt Fenris, Master. I only wanted to save myself….I’m sorry, Master…and I am sorry, Fenris. I don’t bear ill will towards you-“

  
The magister chuckled. “Well now, isn’t that endearing? My little raven groveling to my little wolf? How adorable! Ah you would make such a good little slave, but my plans for you, Jowan, are far more…exciting. How would you like to become my apprentice?”

 

 


	8. Breaking Point

Jowan's eyes went wide, and he tried to respond, but struggled to find words. A few seconds went by, and the young mage found his gaze wandering around the room desperately. The Lyrium scarred elf's bowed head caught his eye again, and his gaze lingered there, but neither slave attempted to lock eyes with the other.

Finally, Jowan spoke. "Can I think this over?"

He worded the question timidly as he looked back at Danarius, eyes on his neck. He'd quickly learned what happened to slaves who tried to look Master in the eyes.

"Normally I would decline such an  _audacious_ request, dear boy. It is an insult to my generosity!" Danarius seemed angry but made no move to touch or harm Jowan.

"I'm...I am sorry, Master," Jowan stammered, bracing for impact or a blow of some kind. The blow never came.

"I am going to grant you until lunch time tomorrow. If you have not reached a decision by then, you will remain a slave. Do you understand?" The Magister's words were laced with venom and Jowan struggled inwardly not to physically react. His heart was racing.  _What about Sa'Renan? She was only kept alive to control me..._ The former blood mage's panicking conscience shouted.

"Yes! Yes, thank you Master, very much!" Jowan forced a small smile, though he was far from pleased. Danarius nodded and waved a casual hand at Fenris who still stood just behind him. The elf stepped forward, past the Magister.

"You are both dismissed. And Fenris, in my private chambers. Half-past nine. Do not be late."

The tips of the elf's ears tinted bright pink, indicating his humiliation and the shame that never seemed to go away. Jowan bowed his head further and led the way out of the sitting room. As they made their exit down the corridor, Fenris shot Jowan a stern look. 

_"_ _Your Master gave you an opportunity to escape this life and you...ask him if you can think it over?! **Are you mad?!** " _The elf snarled the questions.

"I- Fenris, I couldn't just-"

"Couldn't just  _what?_ Take back your basic rights to your body and freedom? You poor, foolish bastard, get your priorities straight!" Fenris hissed. He was seething with rage and his whole body ached from his earlier...session, with their Master, but he also didn't want to be overheard.

"Fenris, I..." Jowan recalled the tortured look the elf displayed to him whenever they spoke about Fenris' 'alone time' with the Master. His expression softened immensely. "I'm really sorry, it...it isn't right, what he's doing to you. It's-"

"It  _is_  right, though, blood mage. It is  _his right._ He is my Master and I am legally his property. As are you, unless you decide to become his apprentice." Fenris replied, sounding only slightly less furious.

Jowan shuddered at that brutal reminder. "I don't want to become  _him."_

Fenris still looked pained but his facial features relaxed significantly and he raised an inquisitive brow. "What do you mean? You are a mage, surely you want power."

The raven haired mage shook his head softly. "Not the kind of power he's offering. I just...all my life I have been viewed as a dangerous source of  _power_ instead of a person."

Then, Fenris' heart skipped a beat and he couldn't point to why. "That makes two of us, Jowan."

Jowan almost replied, almost expressed his surprise that the elf even remembered he had a name aside from 'mage' or 'human'. The worst name he'd been called, however, was definitely 'blood mage'. He felt that if he accepted Danarius' offer he would become one again, and it was one of his biggest fears.

"What would you do if you were in my position, Fenris?" Jowan asked, attempting to look into the other male's eyes for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

"I would never be allowed such a privilege. I am an elf, with no magical abilities...aside from the power my markings give me." Deeply, the elf sighed. "Besides, I was always a slave as far as I've known. You were captured. I am sure it is different. You are legally easier to emancipate from your Master. You also have the advantage of being human, and of course a mage."

It was Jowan, for once, who broke the eye contact between them, regretting his words almost as soon as they were spoken. "I understand. And I am sorry."

Fenris shrugged. "My legal status is...none of my concern. I simply must get through each day. Survive. Serve my Master. In return, I am highly valued. Housed, kept clean, fed-"

"Unless your  _Master_ forbids it." Jowan interrupted bitterly. "And don't you _d_ _are_ say you are safe! He's taking you to bed every night and somehow I doubt you _ever_ had the chance to say no!"

Fenris winced when Jowan spoke harshly. _Dangerous talk,_ he thought.  _He is bold. He is crazy...but he could be right._

The elf's shoulders sagged. "I don't expect you to understand, Jowan."

"I think I already do." As Jowan spoke he placed a hand on Fenris' shoulder. The markings pulsed angrily but as the elf turned and abruptly raised a hand top strike the mage away, something broke inside his mind.

There was kindness, genuine kindness in the mage's softened features. Nothing vindictive or malicious. He looked as though he held in one single expression, enough safety and earnest kindness to soothe even the most broken soul.  _But why?!..._ Fenris looked alarmed but he froze from trying to shake away from the contact. His markings stopped pulsing and his muscles relaxed a little.

"I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" Jowan pulled away, hand trembling and tears welling up in blue-grey eyes. He looked utterly terrified now. they had just about reached the slaves' quarters and Jowan bolted away, leaving Fenris very confused and more than a little bit troubled.

\-------------

By the next morning, Fenris' mind was not only in turmoil, but his body hurt. He had been denied sleep due to his Master's 'needs' and his meal was bland in the morning. The elf had been battered about even more than usual during the night, and given a vial with only enough elfroot to eliminate the chance of permanent scarring. The pain, he got to keep.

Although he hadn't dared speak without permission when his master was using him, Fenris came to the terrifying realization that he'd wanted to beg. He had wanted to cry out and ask Danarius why he wanted to hurt him. He was beginning to realize just how broken he was, and he hated it. Yet, a part of him wondered if Jowan's spirit to fight against Master had more meaning than he gave the mage credit for. What if Jowan  _could_ have a purpose, other than to serve and please a master or mistress? _What if-_ Fenris shuddered as he forced himself to swallow his lukewarm porridge. What it  _he_ had another purpose?

"You all right, Fenris?" Rik asked, softly.

"Am I ever?" The younger elf responded.

"Did you sleep okay? Are you well?" Rik persisted.

"No. _I did not sleep at all."_ Fenris said, his voice shifting from a groggy mumble to a stern, cold tone.

"Oh, I ...see." Rik averted his eyes from the younger elf's face. "I am sorry."

"Don't pity me. I don't need it." Fenris gazed at the wall, blankly. Jowan walked in, Sa'Renan closely following. When Jowan saw Fenris, he felt his heart sink. They'd not spoken since Jowan had fled from the elf's side into the slaves' quarters the day before.

"Cleaning duty today, Jowan?" Rik asked, breaking the silence as the three other slaves went about tidying the mess hall and Fenris finished eating.

"Yeah, just some dusting and I have to scrub the floor of the barracks, but I'm to meet with the Master at lunchtime."

"Why?" Sa'Renan asked casually while she finished up some dishes.

Fenris lifted a brow and glanced in her direction, then towards Jowan. "You haven't told them yet, have you?" The elf already knew the answer before Jowan spoke, because the human mage cringed.

"No."

"What is it, friend? What's going on?" Sa'Renan closed the gap between Jowan and herself and took ahold of his wrist, evidently concerned for his safety. Jowan smiled reassuringly at her before he quickly glared at Fenris.

" _I was waiting for the right time to tell them._ Danarius asked me if I wanted to become his apprentice yesterday."

"What? Like, to become a Magister?" asked Sa'Renan, sounding a little shocked.

" _Maker, I hope not._ If I tell him 'yes,' that is. I want to be free, but..." he lowered his voice. "Danarius is so horribly cruel!" The mage shuddered at the thought of having to work for the man, let alone become more like him

"Watch it, Jowan." Fenris warned. 

"Fenris, not to sound horrible, but you know it is true better than anyone." Jowan snapped, not really thinking about the effects those words might have.

Sa'Renan gasped. Rik's normally smiling face went tense, and the frown on Fenris' face deepened to an expression of pure hurt. Rik was the first to attempt to speak. "Jowan, that's not-"

"Enough. Master's tea time starts in twenty minutes." The silver-haired elf blurted out. Then he all but bolted from the slaves' quarters, as fast as he could manage.

"Jowan, was that about what I think it was?" Sa'Renan asked softly. She didn't touch the troubled mage but she stepped closer.

The mage nodded. "Seems like our ... _master,_ uses Fenris more often than we all thought. Yesterday he told him when to be in his  _private quarters_ , and he ordered him not to be late. Fenris drops clues all the time, and I can take a hint to that sort of thing any day. I grew up practically surrounded by it." Jowan sounded completely disgusted. He bowed his head. "And there was never a single thing I could do to help those who were affected."

"Oh, Jowan..." Sa'Renan's brows furrowed with worry. "Did you talk to him?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He even defended Danarius. Said it was the ' _Master's right'._ That he is  _property,_ and if I don't accept the offer, I am property too.

"Sweet Maker." Rik muttered with a shake of his head.

"There is no Maker. For us, it seems like it's only 'master this' or 'mistress that'." Jowan slammed his hands on the table, clattering a few dishes. Sa'Renan jumped.

Rik placed a hand on the younger man's back, between his shoulder blades. "Hey, take it easy, Jowan."

"Or else,  _what,_ I won't get an apprenticeship? I'll stay a slave? I've been a slave, Rik, in one form or another, my whole life! I don't just want out, I want  _justice!"_

Jowan slammed his hands on the table again and Rik moved to hold his arms stable, while embracing his body from behind. "It's all right, lad, please be at ease."

Then, just like that, Jowan began to sob, becoming so soft through his body language that he crumbled and nearly collapsed, but Rik held him up, shushing him gently and trying to comfort him. "I'm sorry, lad. You're going to be fine, it's okay."

Sa'Renan moved closer to the pair and she took Jowan's right hand (his non-scarred one) and squeezed it while Rik held Jowan's trembling, sobbing form. Jowan knew it was wrong to shout at fellow slaves. It wasn't their fault that he was hurting. It wasn't their fault at all. Then he managed to speak between sobs. 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you, Rik, I'm so sorry! I'm overwhelmed, I'm scared. I have no idea what to do and it's killing me."

"Shh, Jowan, you're forgetting I've had worse. Much worse. All is forgiven, my friend, there is no harm done." Rik said softly as he slowly released Jowan's body until only a hand remained, rubbing soothing circles onto the former blood mage's back.

"I'm going to accept the apprenticeship. Then I will find a way to bring him down, and I will free you all." Jowan said softly.

Rik gasped. "Whoa, now, Jowan, you can't just-"

Jowan whirled around with newfound energy and sudden speed. His left hand gripped Rik's shoulder now, and his right remained clasped with Sa'Renan's. Then he took a few glances between them and smiled. For the first time in what seemed like forever, the grin reached his glimmering eyes.

"Yes, I can."

 .


	9. A Broken Leash, A Strained Leash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, Jowan's time as a slave is over, Hadriana is awful, (but provides some foreshadowing that made me chuckle towards the beginning of this chapter) Danarius is diabolical and Fenris is beginning to question his outlook on his life and his situation as a whole.
> 
> Also Sa'Renan is an innocent cinnamon roll!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR IMPLIED NON-CON (NOT SCRIPTED BUT HEAVILY IMPLIED) AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER AND REFERENCED THROUGHOUT.  
> THE WORST IT GETS IS BELOW THE LINE
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think! I pour my heart and soul into these pieces and I hope you love them as much as I do!

After Danarius finished his tea-time with Hadriana, Sa’Renan was tasked with serving lunch and Jowan accompanied her to the dining room. Just before they opened the door, Sa’Renan balanced the weight of the food tray in one hand and took Jowan’s hand in hers.

“No matter what happens in there, you have my thanks. For my life, and my voice.” She said, her tone gentle. Her hazel eyes met his blue grey hues and he gave her a soft smile.

“And you, for my courage.” He squeezed her hand for a moment before letting go. “Friend.” 

Sa’Renan returned his earnest smile.

“Friend.” She repeated. She never got tired of saying that word to him, because the way she saw the world, nobody was more worthy of her unwavering loyalty.

As they opened the door, Jowan took a deep breath and entered the room.

“Good, you are on time.” Hadriana said with a look of heinous mischief. “My, my, what a handsome sight you are. When you are not covered in your own blood and whining, that is.” She scoffed.

Jowan didn’t really know where to look, or what to say, but he mumbled a soft, “Thank you Mistress,” in response.

“Yes, well, not for much longer, depending on how your little talk with your master goes today.” Hadriana sighed, looking completely and utterly bored.

“I was told to meet him here?” Jowan asked.

“Yes. He is on his way, I hope. I cannot fathom why he would be so late. He’s so enthralled by that _pet_ of his, it’ll be the death of us all.”  
Danarius’ apprentice rolled her eyes. Then, as if on cue, Fenris steeled himself and entered the dining room. His arms were covered in newly dried blood and face drained of any energy or even hostility. He looked awful and Jowan guessed the blood wasn’t his. 

“Master will be here in a moment-there was an...incident, in the library that required his attention.” Fenris said softly. Hadriana looked intrigued as to why the elf was covered in blood, but she said nothing and nodded in his direction.

Jowan’s eyes had widened as the elf had entered the room, but his expression changed to worry. Sa’Renan set the table and Jowan was still frozen in his state of fear and worry when the old magister strode into the room. He looked nonchalant as if nothing worrisome had just occurred.

“Jowan, have a seat, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost, lad.”

The raven haired mage looked both confused and terrified.

“Fenris…” The magister flicked his hand in Jowan’s direction and Fenris quickly closed the gap between them.

Fenris was reluctant to touch the mage, but he did. Their eyes didn’t meet but the elf placed a hand on the taller man’s shoulder gently and the lyrium marked fingertips quivered. Jowan had so many questions. Who were Fenris-no, Danarius’ latest victims? Was the elf all right? What had he seen? Jowan was empathetic towards the man who was subtly trying to be as kind as he could while in plain sight of their master. They were both victims, here.

Jowan’s gaze flickered over towards Fenris’s face and the elf remained stoic.

“It is all right, human. Sit down.” Jowan thought he heard the elf’s voice crack ever-so-slightly.

The elf motioned towards the chair with a set place on the table, and Jowan glanced at him once more.  
“Go ahead.” Fenris did not smile, but his expression softened. He understood Jowan’s hesitation all too well. It was a survival method that had worked for other slaves long before their time.

Once Jowan was seated he spoke softly. “Thank you, sorry…” he didn’t know whether to look at Fenris or Danarius, so he shut his eyes, bowing his head.

“Nevermind that, my boy. Have you reached a decision?” The magister snapped.

“Yes, I have decided to accept your offer, if you’ll have me, Master.” Jowan still referred to Danarius by title, not wanting pride to cause him to risk his own freedom. This might be his only chance to help these people after all. 

“Oh, splendid! You will of course remain here throughout the duration of your training. However, if you so chose, when your apprenticeship is over you may have opportunities to study at Minrathous’ Circle, or begin researching the magic school of your choice.” Danarius sounded calmer now and even flashed Jowan a smile before he spoke. 

“Will I be able to...to go outside?” Jowan asked nervously but with something akin to hope in his tone. 

“You are not a slave anymore. What I did not tell you yesterday was that I already have the necessary paperwork to secure your status as an Imperial citizen, and had you refused my offer, the papers would have been burned to ash. I shall sign it and send it to the Senate and after that, you will legally be a free man.” 

Jowan’s heart was pounding in his chest. 

“You may want to ask someone to escort you to and from the city should you chose to leave the estate, at least the first few times you go.” Hadriana said suddenly.

“Ah, yes! Hadriana, how kind of you to offer yourself up!” Danarius said loudly, with a hint of sarcasm. 

“What? No! I must finish an experiment this afternoo-”

“My dear girl, your fellow apprentice has no coin to his name and only slaves’ garb to wear. You would be doing us all a favor to see that he is dressed appropriately!” 

“It’s all right...if she doesn’t want to…”

“Nonsense my boy. After we dine, you two will go to the marketplace, so you can be fitted for proper robes. I will send coin with you.” 

“Oh, for the Maker’s sake.” Hadriana grumbled into her wine glass. 

Danaarius’ smile faded as he glanced from Jowan to Hadriana.

“Now Hadriana, you know I have little patience for such juvenile behavior amongst those who study under me. Do not disappoint, and set a good example for our dear boy!” The bearded man chided.

The woman sighed loudly but nodded and said nothing.

“Now I believe it is high time the lad had a proper meal!” Danarius announced.

Jowan’s stomach had been growling quite a bit as of late, but the idea of sharing a “proper meal” alongside his captors- _former captors,_ he reminded himself, was beyond strange. He was more accustomed to the quiet, bland and painfully short meals in the slaves’ quarters with his _friends._ Rik, Orana, Sa’Renan, even _Fenris…_

He watched as Sa’Renan filled Danarius’ bowl with a meaty stew which had a very hearty broth. Next she placed a hot roll on his plate and then she filled repeated the process with Hadriana’s food. When she reached Jowan she could not contain herself. She smiled, and he returned it with a shy little smile of his own.  
Unfortunately Hadriana noticed and she kicked the smaller woman in the shin, their legs out of Danarius’ view, startling and hurting her so much that she dropped Jowan’s meal to the floor, beefy stew staining the pristine carpet.

Both older mages gasped at the sound of the bowl hitting the floor with a crack, and Fenris looked tense. Tenser than usual, even. He knew his master well enough to know that this was likely a calculated act to rid Jowan of his weakness-that was all the magisters saw _Wren_ as, after all.

Danarius stood up and all eyes were on him, a look of fury upon his face.

“You foolish, clumsy, good-for-nothing elf-” he began, his lip curling in disgust.

Fenris gulped. This was usually when his master grew violent or gave him the order to shed blood.

Sa’Renan was trembling like a rabbit. The terror in her eyes reached and registered with nobody except for Jowan. If Fenris felt for her at all, those feelings were well hidden, deep beneath layers of conditioned coldness.

“I’m so sorry, Master! I’ll, I’ll clean it up right away!” She stammered. “My sincerest apologies, J-Ser Jowan! It will not happen again, good ser-”

She was fighting back tears now and Jowan was genuinely afraid Danarius would hurt her. Again.

“Fenris, I do not like messes. Punish the one responsible and then get the mess out of my sight.” Danarius commanded, voice laced with soft venom as he stared at Sa’Renan as if she were no more alive than the bits of beef in the spilled stew.  
This even gave Fenris pause. _Master is cruel, but did he really just demand an execution over spilled stew and a cracked bowl?_ He knew the girl was of no use to Danarius anymore but he’d figured she would be sold to the highest bidder, where at least she’d be worth something, not executed.

Fenris had little time to think, however, because it was Jowan’s voice he heard next, pleading for the girl’s life just as he had before, when he, too, was a slave.

“Wait, no! It’s okay! I can clean up the spill, I won’t even ask for more stew! Just don’t hurt her, please! It wasn’t her fault, she just tripped over my foot! It was an accident! Please!” Jowan frantically begged. Fenris had seen the whole thing, and he knew both what Hadriana had done and that Jowan was lying to save his friend. _Admirable,_ Fenris thought, _if not completely and utterly foolish!_

Fenris paused, awaiting orders from his master. The magister sat back down and scratched his grey beard for a moment, after he held a hand up for Fenris to wait.

“And why should I keep this young woman around? She was of no real use to me other than to keep you from stepping out of line, and I’ve no further need to leash you.”

Danarius sounded casual, as though he were deciding whether or not to buy a new pair of shoes, not whether someone lived or died. It made Jowan’s blood boil.

But he swallowed his hatred for the moment, and focused on saving his friend’s life, even if it meant kissing up to a vile excuse for a human being.

“She...she’s my friend, ser. Please let her live. You may punish me if you feel the need, but I wish for her to be safe.”

Danarius appeared amused now more than anything.

Jowan stood up, planting his feet between Fenris and Sa’Renan. He was ready to shield her from harm if the need arose.

The magister huffed, after a small but dramatic pause. “Oh, very well, very well. Fenris, back to your position, my pet. The girl lives, My new apprentice will learn, in due time, that in today’s Tevinter, only those with backbones succeed. But for today,” he looked at Jowan with a hint of malice, reading how to offend the younger mage like an open book. 

“I shall let you have your plaything, lest you cause a scene. Perhaps one day you’ll have the coin to purchase her for yourself!” Danarius smiled that toothy, frightening smile Jowan and Fenris both hated.

Sa’Renan and Jowan both looked relieved and even Fenris let out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. The female elf helped the former blood mage clean up the stew and scrub out the stain while Danarius and Hadriana ate, with Fenris standing watch at his master’s side.

Once they left the dining hall to take the remains of Jowan’s meal to the rubbish heap, Sa’Renan turned to Jowan and hugged him tightly.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

Jowan laughed softly and tossed the garbage to the ground. He hugged her back and held her for a moment before pulling away gently.  
“I can’t believe that just happened,” he cried.

“Will you...will you ever buy me?” she asked timidly.

“Only if it is the only way to keep you safe. But know that in my eyes, you can never be a slave. Not to me, or Danarius, or anybody else.” he replied, his relieved smile replaced by a serious but soft expression.

“I hope you can. And Jowan, I know. Friend.”

 _Bless her heart,_ Jowan thought. _I wish I still were that innocent._

Jowan smiled again and they returned to the dining room moments later.

“Ah, are you ready to accompany Hadriana out to Minrathous?” Danarius asked. Jowan nodded in response.

Sa’Renan began to make her exit.

“Wait,” Hadriana called sharply to Sa’Renan just before she reached the door. Jowan and Sa’Renan’s hearts both raced as the young elf turned around to face the others.

Hadriana actually smiled, one that was not a malicious smirk. Well, not entirely.

“Since my fellow apprentice has taken such a liking to you, why don’t you accompany us, _Wren?”_

Jowan felt his face get hot and he struggled not to frown or say anything as Hadriana emphasized Sa’Renan’s pet name.

“Master?” Sa’Renan eagerly glanced towards Danarius, who had sent a guard to the stables.

He nodded and waved her away as he sipped his wine.

\--------------------------------------------

Fenris was still at his master’s side, but on the inside he was screaming with jealousy. Jowan may have done what he’d had to do to survive, but the elf insisted it didn’t lessen the amount of respect the mage would have to gain back from the elf.

Then Fenris realized the fact that bothered him the most. Although he’d lost an ounce of respect for the dark haired mage who befriended elves like it was nothing, he _did_ truly respect the man.

Fenris winced as the three left for the front parlor and Danarius caressed his muscular forearm.

“To my chambers, _my pet_.”

 


End file.
